Angry Harry and the Seven
by Sinyk
Summary: Just how will Dumbledore cope with a Harry who is smart, knowledgeable, sticks up for himself and, worst still, is betrothed? A Harry who has a penchant for losing his temper? Ravenclaw/Smart(alek)/Lord/Harry Almostcanon/Dumbledore Non-friend/Ron Harry&Daphne (Haphne). No Harem. Rating is for language and minor 'Lime' scenes.
1. The Incident

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Okay, guys and... guyettes, **

**This one is of epic length. And by that I mean really **_**really**_** long. For those who sent me a note about 'Four Heirs' and thought it long - well, this one blows that one out of the water for length. So, if something only up to - say - 150k words is your cup o' tea, then this isn't for you. No sir-ree! This story hits approximately 480k words.**

**To stop all the whining and bitching right now - yeah, like **_**that's**_** ever going to happen - you'll figure out this is a 'Haphne' story; Dumbledore is (somewhat) good but still manipulative **_**as per canon**_**; Ron's an ineffective non-entity; Snape tries to keep sticking his beak in - and get's it repeatedly thwacked with a rolled-up newspaper; McGonagall gets over her hero-worship of DumDum (I mean, Dumbledore); Hermione is a good friend; Sirius is free; kids are kids; and teenagers are walking bags of hormones.**

**The story follows canon a lot; and I've even included many quoted sections out of the books. I didn't do this to pinch JKR's works. Rather, it's in there to demonstrate similarities while being a different story. So, no biatching about that, either. You've been well and truly warned.**

**Yours,**

**Da crazy bastard who thinks he's an author.**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

This is my stooping owl, Brutus.  
He has offered to separate chapters into more manageable sections.  
Do not try to pat him, as you will leave marks on the pages; and, I shall be most wroth with you.

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**Chapter One - The Incident**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

'There he is,' thought the furious young raven-haired boy with the bright green eyes. 'That's the arsewipe responsible for dumping me on the _Dursleys_.'

He was walking last in line, alone, of about forty children roughly the same age as he. They walked up between two long tables with children of various ages, from eleven to seventeen. Sitting to his left were children wearing robes trimmed in yellow and black. To his right, their robes were trimmed in blue and bronze. The tables were covered in flatware and crockery that appeared to be made of gold. Above, hanging suspended in the air, were hundreds of candles. Their light filled the room with a soft but all encompassing warm glow.

The children ahead of him were looking around uttering sounds of awe and whispering to each other about what they saw. One young bushy brown-haired lass just ahead of him was talking to a blonde-haired lass about how the ceiling was supposed to be 'charmed' to show the night sky.

The raven-haired boy was only paying attention to it all, almost peripherally. Almost his entire focus was on the man wearing garish robes and a long white beard, sitting on what looked like a golden throne. He knew who the man was - who he had to be - Albus 'Arsewipe' Dumbledore; the one who sentenced him to almost ten years of _Hell_.

McGonagall, a tall, stern looking woman with the epitome of a witch's hat perched on her head, told the group of children he was with to form a line in front of the small stage she had just mounted. He recognised her, too; just as he did the giant of a man who collected them from the train station.

The boy paid her little mind. He could feel the constant headache he'd had since he was seven years old beginning to intrude again. It always happened when his anger began to build - his rage. As always, he forced it back with an iron will. A - coping mechanism - he'd developed long ago. The Dursleys never allowed him any sort of pain killer. And, as always, it made him feel within himself as if he was suffocating. Like something was squeezing him deep inside.

The boy watched as the hat, clearly demonstrating more magic in evidence, began to sing. The tune, though quite basic, allowed the hat to sing about how unlike other hats it was before it sang about the four houses of the school. Then it gave a short riff about putting it on to be sorted.

Once it quietened again, the children around him and throughout the hall, began to clap. The boy just wished they'd do so quietly. His headache was building along with his anger. He was struggling to force it back.

McGonagall unfurled a scroll as she waited for the applause to die down. Once it had, she began to call names.

The boy was trying to focus within himself while only listening with half an ear. From experience, he knew - if given time - he could force the anger away; and, with it, the headache. He had his eyes closed, focussing. It helped that he didn't have to look upon the face of the old wanker on his throne, McGonagall or that Hagrid bloke. He would bide his time. After all these years he was able to quickly and methodically force the pain and anger down.

It never went away completely, though. Not since that evening; the evening his so-called loving aunt hit him in the side of the head with a frying pan. The one that had slipped out of his sore and soapy hands as he stood on a low stool at the sink washing dishes.

It had slipped out of his hands and hit the floor, making a racket. His aunt had stormed in, furious. She screamed at him about how they were trying to watch the evening news on the BBC. She'd bent down, grasped the handle of the pan from where it had landed on the floor, raised it, and hit him in the side of the head with it.

The hit had knocked him unconscious, as the next thing he remembered was waking up back in his cupboard with a blinding headache. He was just glad it was late at night as the rest of the house was quiet. He couldn't see any lights on, filtering through the gaps in the door. But, since that night, he'd had the headaches.

Shoving those thoughts aside, too, the boy was pulled out of his meditative state when he heard his name called. The way it was called sounded as if it wasn't the first time, either.

He opened his eyes and saw the old witch, McGonagall, staring sternly at him. He could also hear whispering coming from the other children. The other students. He knew what they were whispering. '_The_ Harry Potter? The Boy-Who-Lived? Is Harry Potter here?' All nonsense. He hated them for it.

He felt a hand of one of the other children - he didn't know who, nor did he care - give him a light nudge forward by his shoulder. He noticed the old arsewipe and some of the other - teachers? - lean forward slightly, as if in anticipation. Wankers.

He walked forward, heading for the small wooden stool. McGonagall stood alongside it, ready to place the hat that could sing on his head.

As he reached the stool and was about to turn around to sit on it, the scent hit him. That same scent he remembered from his memories. That same scent that was on her - one of the other people besides the whiskered arsewipe, responsible for him being dumped on the doorstep of the Dursleys. The perfume of the old witch brought the memory of that night back to his full consciousness.

The sense of smell, the memory of smell, was one of the most powerful of mnemonics. Her perfume triggered the memory deep within the boy - Harry Potter. It also re-awoke the anger the boy had been trying to suppress.

_"Dumbledore you can't. I've been watching them all day. You couldn't find two people who are less like us. And they've got this son - I saw him kicking his mother all the way up the street, screaming for sweets. Harry Potter come and live here!"_

_"It's the best place for him," said Dumbledore firmly. "His aunt and uncle will be able to explain everything to him when he's older. I've written them a letter."_

_"A letter?" repeated Professor McGonagall faintly, sitting back down on the wall. "Really, Dumbledore, you think you can explain all this in a letter? These people will never understand him! He'll be famous - a legend - I wouldn't be surprised if today was known as Harry Potter Day in the future _-_ there will be books written about Harry - every child in our world will know his name!" _

Harry stopped. He felt his hands clench into fists. Taking deep breaths of rage he turned to the old witch and snarled, "_No!_"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Minerva McGonagall had never, in all her years at Hogwarts, heard a student refuse to be sorted in such a manner. And definitely not one who would do it with so much anger; so much venom. There had been others in the past, but that was due to the child's fear of the hat. However, young Mister Potter was clearly unafraid.

"_Excuse_ me, Mister Potter?" she asked the boy in shock.

"I said, 'No!'," replied young Harry. "I will not be - sorted - I do not believe I shall be attending this - school."

"_Mister_ Potter!" exclaimed McGonagall. "You _must_!"

"_Bullshit_, lady!" Harry snarled back, louder than before. "About the _only_ reason I came here was to meet face to face the _arseholes_ who _dumped_ me as a baby on the doorstep of the people who spent the next near ten years _abusing me_! Well, now I've seen them. And you _disgust_ me!"

The entire hall was completely silent. Most faces appeared horrified by what they'd just heard, and the venom in the voice that had just delivered it.

Harry then turned around and stormed off the platform and through the remaining students waiting to be sorted. He stormed back down between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables heading back to the double doors he'd only recently entered.

Suddenly, he stopped. He turned around to look back up towards the head table. He could see that the old fool had risen to his feet and was raising his wand. Thinking for a bare moment, Harry suddenly threw his robe off over his head and threw it onto the floor.

Quickly, he turned to the Hufflepuff table - with those wearing ties of black and yellow. He stepped onto the bench seat between two students - who rapidly gave him room - and then up onto the table top.

Once he was standing on the table he started to remove his v-necked school jumper, tie and shirt. While doing so, he snarled out in a large voice near shouting, "You people think me some kind of hero. I'm supposed to be some great Boy-Who-Lived; the one who supposedly defeated Voldemort. Well..."

Down to his shirt, no undershirt, he ripped it off and threw it, too, to the floor leaving himself bare-chested. Then he threw his arms out wide and loudly snarled, "Take a look at some of the evidence of how your _supposed_ hero has been treated since that night! None of that bullshit your parents and guardians probably read to you as bedtime stories!" He started to turn in a slow circle so that everyone in the hall could see the scars from some of the injuries he sustained. "And these are only the visible ones! These are only the ones that didn't heal properly!"

Harry didn't hear the gasps, the sudden exclamations of horror, or the crying from some of the students as they looked upon him. He couldn't really hear anything.

His head was throbbing. The pain was excruciating. He mentally bit down on the pain through force of will as he ranted.

He didn't see the little red headed girl that was sitting near the head of the Hufflepuff table - Susan - stand up with tears in her eyes and bolt out of the room. He didn't see her because the pain had brought tears to his own eyes. The pressure - the feeling of suffocating began to feel like he was being choked - began to build to a level he'd not felt before. But, he didn't care. He was finally able to vent his feelings to the people who caused him to be left with the Dursleys. His rage had been unleashed.

"Is _this_ how you believed your hero should be treated?" he screamed. "Is it? Was it _your_ intent for your hero to beaten? Whipped? Fed _nothing_ but tablescraps, if I was lucky to get even that? Treated like a _slave_ while my fat uncle and whale of a cousin fed themselves to morbid obesity and tormented me? WELL?

"And _who_ was responsible for me being dumped in a house where I was abused for almost all of my life you might ask?" he screamed out. Jabbing a finger at the head table, he screamed, "It was none other than the so-called, _all_-powerful Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid!" Lowering his arm, he screamed at them. "_Arseholes!_"

The pain in his head flared right up. There was so much pain. He felt as if he was also being squeezed into a tiny ball. He could barely breathe. He was losing focus. The pain was too much.

He screamed a scream of extreme agony at the ceiling. There was a flash of white light and he felt as if he had exploded from the inside out.

Blackness. The peace of unconsciousness.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

_June 1987 - Four Years Earlier:_

Young Harry Potter grew up always knowing he had a weird sort of memory. He could remember the most detailed points of individual events, right down to the feel of how warm or cold he felt, what the air smelled like, the feel of something on his hands or elsewhere on his skin. The memories were always extraordinarily detailed and vivid. But, those memories always were disjointed, like he was remembering fractions of whole memories. And memories would intrude at the oddest moments. The memories often intruded at the worst times. The memories that made it hard for him to concentrate completely on the task before him.

One of those times was when he was washing the dishes. A memory, triggered by a sound from outside, flashed up into his mind while he was washing a frying pan. He dropped the pan and his aunt hit him in the side of the head with it. The next thing he remembered was waking up in his cupboard late at night or early in the morning.

That was the night the headache started. The one that never went away.

The next morning he was sent to school with the headache still greatly bothering him. Walking to school in a round about route - to avoid his cousin's new gang from laying in wait for him - he spent the time thinking about how he could make his mind stop bothering him.

He waited until the lunch break and quickly went into the school library. There, he sought out books that covered memory. There, he found a book that covered improving one's memory recall.

Quickly he found a place to sit and read. He read through it and moved onto the next. Then the next.

It took him a few weeks to read everything the library had to cover on memory. However, he begun to understand what his problem was. He learned about people who had perfect memory, and he learned how people developed perfect memory. He learned about 'mind palaces' and how people who had to speak in public used them to remember their speeches, or their lines of script.

He also learned that meditation was often used by people to remember things. And how meditation could be used to order an unordered mind; or, one that was simply cluttered with unorganised memories. So, during those times he was locked in cupboard, he learned to meditate.

Once he managed to meditate, he learned to review his memories. And he learned how to file them away within his mind.

To file them away he built a palace within his mind. And, within that palace, he created library shelves. And on those library shelves he filed his memories.

At first it took a lot of effort, as things moved slowly. Each memory took time to sort out and find a place within his shelf space to place it. One of the first things he learned after that was that he wouldn't have enough shelf space to file everything. And that, once he did, how would he quickly find everything again.

And he also quickly learned that while he was meditating or was sorting his memories his headache receded. When he was locked in his cupboard and knew he wouldn't be allowed out for hours, he meditated. And, after many months of practice, he could drop into his meditative state while still allowing all five senses to be aware. This he called conscious meditation rather than the deep meditation of when he shut all senses off, or when he was sorting memories.

He had also learned from the school librarian at his Primary School that he could 'order' library books be brought it on short term loans. The librarian had come to like the young raven haired boy for his focus on quiet study. So, when he asked her if the library could purchase more books on a particular subject, she took the time to explain to him about the inter-library exchange system.

And Harry made a lot of use out of it.

Some of the things Harry learned during those early days and into the following few years were:

1. Creating his mind palace and ordering his memories made it immensely easier for him to recall at will.  
2. He had a whole set of memories from when he was an infant that looked like hallucinations. Either that, or magic existed.  
3. He was rarely any longer distracted by stray memories - and he was looking at knocking those back to being even rarer.  
4. He required far less sleep.  
5. He was rarely bothered by the headache any more, unless he got angry.  
6. He was able to better control his emotions, so was far less likely to become angry.  
7. He could speed-read a book at the library, memorising its contents. Then, he could spend the time to read it while he was in his meditative state. Even then it was still read faster than normal.  
8. If the memories he had as an infant were real, then he knew what had really happened to his parents, and why he was now living with the Dursleys.  
9. He only had to study something once, and he knew it from then on. He did not need to review his work, nor study for exams.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

_24th July 1991 – Four Years Later_:

Harry Potter was standing at the stove, cleaning it, while his so-called family were either gorging themselves, his uncle and cousin, or overly primly picky eating, their breakfasts. The same breakfasts he'd only recently finished cooking but was not allowed to partake in.

As always, he was focussing on keeping his anger in check while he went about the chore.

The sound of a squeaky hinge came from the front of the house. That was the sound of the mail flap.

"Dudley," snorted his uncle. "Go and get the mail."

The fat cousin angrily whined, "Make Harry get it. I've not finished!"

With barely a pause the uncle snapped out, "Boy! Get the mail!"

Tamping his rising anger down, Harry replied, "Yes, Uncle Vernon." He placed the cleaning rag and spray cleaner on the bench top alongside the stove and went out into the entry hall to collect the mail.

Picking it up from the floor he quickly began to sort through it. His uncle demanded the mail be sorted with the junk mail immediately disposed of into the bin.

Quickly sorting the mail, Harry found a most unusual envelope amongst the normal mail. It was unusual in that it was made of a type of paper he'd not come across before; it lacked a stamp or postal mark; and was addressed to him, even down to his 'Cupboard Under the Stairs'. It was also the first item of mail he'd ever personally received. It left him stunned.

Hesitating but a moment he quickly stuffed it into the front left pocket of his oversized and torn jeans, before returning to the final sorting of the mail. And quickly walked back to the kitchen. After all, it would not do for his so-called relatives to wait one moment longer than they absolutely had to when receiving their mail.

Placing the mail next to his uncle's right hand without a word Harry quickly returned to cleaning the stove. The sooner he had the chore done the sooner he could begin on cleaning the breakfast dishes, and the sooner he could retreat to his cupboard to find out who, and why someone, had written to him.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After he had the dishes and cutlery of the Dursley's breakfast put away Harry was able to return to his cupboard. He'd managed, this time, to grab two slices of - now cold - toast and some uneaten bacon. These he pulled out of his pockets to make a sandwich.

After making it he put the sandwich down and drew out the letter addressed to him out of his pocket. Opening it he found a couple of sheets of what looked like somewhat stiff slightly yellow paper made of the same material as the envelope. Written therein, apparently, he had been accepted to attend a magic school called Hogwarts.

The letter also held a document detailing what schools supplies he'd need. One of the items, a cauldron, triggered within him a memory. It was a memory of a place called 'The Leaky Cauldron', which stood as the gateway between the non-magical and magical reals of Britain.

Meditating for a moment he entered his 'mind palace' and found the relevant memory. Reviewing it, he found where it was located; Charing Cross Road near Leicester Square Tube station. Then a short walk south. Identified by a swinging sign of a cauldron with a big crack near the bottom. The wall had only a dark wooden door in a blank white wall.

Now, how to get there. He searched his memories relating to maps and found what he needed. A quick scan through and he had it figured out. He needed to catch an overland National Rail train to Balham. Then switch to the Underground rail system for the Northern Line. Then ride straight through to Leicester Square.

Getting there and back wasn't difficult. His mental rail maps said it would only take him a little over two hours each way. Convincing his aunt to allow him to go to the local public library for the day would only require a little persuasion. He only had to play to her insecurities using what he learned in the book '_Reinventing Influence_'.

But did he want to come back? No, not really. He knew the lies his aunt and uncle told him about his parents and how he came to have the scar on his forehead were just that; lies. And he remembered being taken to the bank in that alley behind the pub.

No, he'd tell his aunt he was heading out for the day (so he wouldn't be underfoot) and make his way directly to the bank. There, he hoped to find out if his parents had left him any money. If not, he'd race back home and do what he could to make his own way in life.

He had secreted away in his little cupboard about twenty pounds. He had a little sideline going on with other kids in school. He hid in the library and did their homework for them. But, they had to meet his prices. When they did, they received back homework worthy of top marks. All they had to do was rewrite it in their own handwriting.

No one but his personal 'agents' knew his real identity. And, even if someone managed to get one of the said agents to divulge the identity of the 'homework expert', nobody believed them. Because, Harry Potter was known as a poor student. He was even a worse student than his obese cousin, no matter how much time he appeared to spend in the library seemingly studying. If his cousin earned 50% on an assignment, Harry received 48%. He was always a few marks behind, a few points behind. But no one could work out why. No one knew that he would be beaten by both his cousin and his fat uncle if he brought home a report card that showed better marks than 'Dear Duddikins'. No one knew the efforts to which Harry went in appearing to be a slightly worse student than his cousin.

No one knew his greatest secret.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The morning after receiving his letter, Harry was up early. He 'feed bagged' the Dursleys, cleaned up the breakfast dishes, cleaned the kitchen and then used his recently learned influencing skills on his aunt. Some information about how he could make her day easier if he wasn't there for the day, and he was able to get out.

He quickly made his way to the local National Rail train station and he was on his way to Balham Underground station. Just under half an hour later and he was on an Underground railcar and on his way up the Northern Line direct to Leicester Square.

The trip was quicker than he thought it would be considering it was both a work day and early morning. However, he was soon walking quickly along Charing Cross Road keeping a close look out for the sign for 'The Leaky Cauldron'.

It didn't take him long to find the pub before he was able to duck in through the door. He remembered to calmly walk through and straight out the back door into the alleyway. However, once he was in the alley he couldn't find a memory of how to get through to the other side of the brick wall before him. So, he just waited.

It was only a few minutes later before the bricks began to open up with someone wanting to come through from the other side and he was able to duck through.

Keeping his head down and out from underfoot. He made his way down the alley. If he remembered right, the big marble building halfway down the alley was the bank he needed; Gringotts. Standing either side of the door he could see most fierce creatures that seemed to only be as tall as he was. And they were arm with old-fashioned pikes and double-bladed axes.

He calmly walked in through the big stone pillars and the big double doors. Once inside he looked around to see if there was anyone he could talk to about finding out if he had any money. He soon spotted another one of the creatures that stood guard outside behind a high counter.

Steeling his emotions he approached the counter and waited. He really didn't know if he should say anything or not.

Waiting there for only a minute, but seemingly longer, the creature seemed to notice him and snarled, "What do you want, little wizard."

Steeling himself, Harry calmly but quietly said, "I'm sorry to bother you, sir; but I'd like to find out if my parents left any money for me here when they died."

The creature stopped what it was doing as Harry spoke. Staring back for a few moments it seemed to think for a few moments before it asked, "What is your name?"

Harry quickly replied, "Harry Potter, sir."

Again the creature just stared at him. But Harry did notice it glanced quickly at the scar just visible under his long fringe on his forehead. It was at least a few moments before it said, "Wait there and I'll have the Potter Account Manager send for you." Then it grabbed a small piece of the same paper that Harry's letter was made of and a gnarled looking pen. It wrote a few things on it and dropped it into a slot on the bench he was working upon before it hit a button.

The creature then ignored him, performing other tasks.

After what appeared to be a minute Harry was getting impatient and was about to ask what was going on when he heard a voice behind him.

"Mister Potter?" the voice asked.

Turning around, he came face to face with another of the creatures standing looking at him.

"Yes," said Harry.

"Follow me, please," said the creature before it turned away and started walking into the depths of the bank.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Three hours later and Harry was walking out of the bank. He was struggling to maintain his composure. His anger was threatening to open into a full rage. He was feeling - stifled.

He walked - stalked really - back up the alley a little before he stopped. He needed a distraction. He needed something to take his mind off what he'd just been told.

A look up the alley and he saw what looked like a bookshop called Flourish & Blotts. Reading always calmed him down. And now that he had in his pocket a bag of gold coins he could buy his own books, instead of borrowing them from the library.

He entered the shop and took a look around.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The creatures, goblins as he now knew they were called, were not happy with him at first, and it wasn't even his fault.

At first, after an initial blood test to confirm his identity, they wanted to know why he was not accepting 'owls'. And it took a bit of effort by both parties to clear up the confusion before _they_ managed to explain that wizarding mail was 'couriered' by owls; and until _he_ explained, and showed them, that the only item of mail he'd ever received was his acceptance letter from Hogwarts. The goblins were very unhappy to hear that, and informed him they'd investigate why their owls were not getting through to him.

Once those initial problems were overcome his 'Potter Account Keeper' goblin, Bloodfang, gave him an overview of the state of the Potter Accounts. It took a while as they had to stop every now and then due to Harry needing to get his anger under control about what he'd learned.

Harry was also allowed to go down to collect money from his 'trust' vault, where he also collected a special coin pouch the cart goblin was able to show him was larger inside than outside. And pick up two envelopes that had his name on them in two different styles of handwriting. He was then allowed to look in the other two vaults; one for records and documents and a few other items, and one full of heirlooms and gold. However, he was not allowed to enter either until, as the goblins called it, he was 'of age'.

On returning to the surface Bloodfang stepped him through the process of having the coin pouch blood locked to him against theft and the like, and handed him a full accounting of his financial holdings. These he carried in a document pouch the old goblin 'gifted' him with. He currently had it slung crossways from his right shoulder to his left hip.

In the bookshop, after having looked around for a while, he approached a sales clerk and asked her to assist him in getting the books he needed for his First Year at Hogwarts. She smiled at him and said, "Sure, dear. Just give me a moment."

He waited for her to finish a task she was in the middle of completing before she walked around the counter and said to him, "All Hogwarts text books can be found together in a row over here." And she led him to an aisle on the opposite side of the store from the main counter. "In this aisle you find each year's texts are separated by year. First Years at the front of the store; through to Seventh Year at the back."

Looking down the aisle, Harry said, "Thankyou. And if you wouldn't mind, could you show me where I'll find books on introducing someone to the magic world and Hogwarts, information on the ancient families, and magic relating to the mind?"

"Certainly dear," said the clerk. And she led him through the store indicating the relevant sections.

"Thank you," said Harry, allowing the young lady to return to her duties.

Knowing that the text books for his first year at Hogwarts were all together and already sorted on the shelves, he decided to collect those last.

Browsing the books he soon came across a section that was labelled Harry Potter. Frowning and wondering why there was a section with his name upon it he scanned the titles he found there. There were stories written about him, plus a couple of books that were supposedly factual about what happened on and around 31st of October 1981, the night his parents were murdered and he was taken from his home. He grabbed one of the children novels, '_Harry Potter and the Deadly Dragon_', and two of the fact books about that fateful night; '_Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived_' and '_The Boy Who Lived: Our Youngest Hero_'.

Then he found a book titled '_Introduction to Mind Magicks_' that he hoped would help him with his anger issues and headache, a book on Hogwarts called '_Hogwarts: A History_' to learn about the school, a book called '_A History of the Ancient Houses_' where he hoped to learn more about his own family, another called '_An Introduction to the Wizarding World_', a fifth titled '_Noble Etiquette_' as he was supposed to be from what was called a Noble and Ancient House; and, because it looked interesting and might be able to help him remain incognito, a book on basic charms that covered altering one's appearance called '_Simple Cantrips for the Beauty Conscious_'.

With those nine books loading down in his arms he carried them to the front counter.

Looking at the clerk he asked, "Do you mind if I leave these here while I collect my school texts?"

"That'll be fine, dear," replied the clerk barely even glancing up. 'We're not that busy today.'

Harry then ducked quickly back to the aisle with the Hogwarts's texts and quickly gathered them up before returning to the counter with them.

While he'd been gone the clerk had already begun to ring up his purchases on the old fashioned mechanical till so, as soon as he brought the second pile of books she smoothly transitioned from the last book in the first pile to the first book in the second pile.

When she'd finished she told him the total value. While he was withdrawing the correct number of galleons from his pouch she drew her wand and caused the whole pile to be bundled and tied together in two packages.

After pulling out the correct number of galleons Harry was able to watch the clerk give a last few twitches on her wand while his packages looked to do a merry dance and they were tied.

'Okay!' thought Harry. 'That's what it looks like to perform magic.'

He handed over the galleons and received his change in sickles and knuts, dropping them into his pouch.

"Would you like me to shrink them for you, dear?" she asked.

Harry frowned at her and asked back, "Shrink?"

Looking back in confusion for just a moment the clerk suddenly brightened. "Oh? Of course. You'd be a muggle born. That's why you bought, amongst other things, the book '_An Introduction to the Wizarding World_'. I'm sorry, I should have realised."

Harry just frowned back, not considering correcting her.

Blushing a little, the clerk said, "Watch." And she caused the two packages to shrink down until they were about equal in size to a matchbox each. Tucking her wand up her sleeve she said, "Now, to unshrink them, all you need to do is press firmly on the knot of the string." And she demonstrated before reshrinking the package. "See?"

Harry just nodded, though he was quite surprised by what he saw.

"The clerk, taking pity on him, said, "Now, as you don't seen to have purchased any other things of your school supplies, I suggest you head down the Alley to Porter's Portmanteaus to purchase your school trunk. Ask Mister Porter to place a featherweight charm on the trunk. That way, you'll have something to carry all your purchases within while you shop." And she smiled at him.

Harry thanked the young woman before picking up the shrunken packages and dropping them in his pocket.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On his way down to the shop the clerk directed him to, Harry found a cafe. One look at the sign saying 'Hot Food' and Harry's tummy growled. So, he decided to stop first and see and buying some lunch. Besides, he also wanted to read the two letters that were left to him in his trust vault.

After placing his order for lunch he sat in an inside booth and withdrew the two envelopes. Hesitating a moment, he gave a mental shrug and opened the one on top first.

Inside was a letter written in the same flowing script in which his name was written on the front of the envelope.

_My Dearest Harry,_

_I hope by the time you read this you've grown into a wonderful young man under the care of either your godmother, Lady Alice Longbottom, and her husband, Lord Franklin Longbottom; or with your godfather, Sirius Black, if dear Alice and Frank weren't able to take you in. If you've grown up with the Longbottoms then you would have also grown up alongside young Neville, a boy who is only a few hours older than you. If you were raised by Sirius (you used to call him 'Pa-foo') then I hope you're not getting into too much mischief with pranks._

_No matter who raised you I hope your life to the day you read this letter has been a happy one, and that it will continue to be so. Know that your father and I love you and will continue to love you from 'The Great Beyond'. _

_You are my darling baby boy._

_Your Mum,_

_Lady Lily Potter_

After reading the letter, and not knowing whether to be happy to have read a letter from his own mother, or be angry he didn't grow up with his godmother or godfather, he put the letter back into the envelope and set it aside.

Picking up the second envelope he already guessed it would be from his father.

_Hey Prongslet (yes, that's you, Harry),_

_If you're reading this letter it means I wasn't there to help you grow up; and I'm really sorry about that. However, I hope you still have had a happy childhood with the Longbottoms or one of the other magical persons we specified in our wills with whom you were to be raised._

_For your information, here is the order of people written in your mother's and my Wills who should have raised you:  
Lady Alice Longbottom and her husband Lord Francis 'Frank' Longbottom - Lady Longbottom is your sworn godmother as your mother is sworn godmother of Frank and Alice's boy, Neville.  
Sirius Black and his wife (if he finally finds someone to settle down and marry) - Sirius is your sworn godfather  
Lord Cygnus and Lady Isabel Greengrass - dear friends, plus you're betrothed to their daughter, Daphne (see below)  
Amelia Bones and her husband (if she marries) - a dear friend from within the DMLE_

_Now, about Daphne; your mother tells me I need to apologise. When you were born I was so happy that I called some friends over to the Manor. Your mother was still in hospital, at this time, otherwise she would have stopped things before they got out of hand. You see I, together with Sirius, Remus, Frank, Cygnus and a few of the chaps from within the DMLE we could trust, decided we had to celebrate your birth while the ladies were all with your Mum at the hospital with you. It was also a bit of respite for us from the horrors of the war. As you can guess we got a bit carried away. _

_The next morning Cygnus and I discovered we had signed a betrothal contract between you and his new infant daughter, Daphne. Your mother, nor your 'Auntie' Isabel, were happy when we finally admitted it to them. Nor were they happy when they discovered we signed it with a blood quill, and that it was unbreakable. If Daphne's looks, when she grows up, are anything like her mother's, then I hope you wont be too angry with me. There is a copy of the betrothal contract in the Potter heirloom vault in the filing cabinet. Ask Bloodfang, the Potter Account Keeper (or his replacement, if there's been one since I wrote this letter) for a copy of it. And __please__ forgive your dear old departed Dad for being an idiot (even if your mother hasn't yet)._

_Once you turn eleven you will become the new Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. You will also take up your Lordship when you are of age or are legally emancipated, whichever comes first. Potter is a very old wizarding House that traces its roots back many, many centuries. It's something for you of which to be very proud, as am I. _

_I don't know when you will read this letter. But, hopefully, it will be well before your eleventh birthday so you will have time to adjust to this news. Plus, you will need time and training to learn what it means to be the Head of such an Ancient House. Your guardians and Bloodfang (or his successor) will be able to help you with this._

_You also need to know that the Potters are openly in alliance with the Houses of Longbottom and Bones; and are secretly in alliance with the Houses of Black and Greengrass. If you haven't already done so you need to contact the Heads of those Houses at your earliest opportunities, once you take up your Headship of House Potter, after your eleventh birthday. This is very important. It can be viewed as a snub to their Houses and the alliances if you don't. But, your approach to the Heads of the Black and Greengrass families must be done carefully and in secret if you already are not in contact with them._

_Now that the scary official stuff is out of the way, I want you to know that I love you with all my heart. I want you to have a very happy and long life and have lots of sons and daughters of your own, so you can experience just how much we love you. _

_You are also the son of a Marauder, so I expect to be watching you pull lots of pranks. I will be laughing with you when you pull them._

_Your loving father,  
James 'Dad' Potter  
(Still sleeping on the couch due to that marriage contract)_

Harry placed that letter back in it's envelope and wiped the tears out of his eyes as he did so.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	2. Gathering Supplies

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Two – Gathering Supplies**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

While enjoying his lunch at the cafe in Diagon Alley, Harry spent quite a bit of time thinking about the two letters from his parents. He didn't know what he thought about being 'betrothed' to this Daphne Greengrass girl, other than it annoyed him. However, he also understood from what his father explained, it couldn't be broken. And, therefore, there was no use getting all upset about it. He promised himself he wouldn't be angry with the poor girl as she was just as obviously stuck with him as he was with her. But, all bets were off when it came to this Cygnus Greengrass man when Harry finally met him.

Finishing his lunch and tucking his letters away in his new document pouch, Harry headed down to Porter's Portmanteaus.

He found the shop as described and entered to find a man similar in stature to his Uncle Vernon. However, this man seemed like a much more placid individual. The shop appeared empty of customers.

Seeing the young boy walk in, the man walked over to him and said, "Hello, young sir. Here to purchase your school trunk, I suppose? I'm Waldo Porter, by the way."

"Yes, sir," replied Harry. "I'm told I need one."

"That you do, young sir," said Mister Porter. "Follow me and we'll soon get you sorted." And he led Harry to a wall where were stacked quite a few trunks all appearing identical.

"Now," said Mister Porter, gesturing, "These are the standard school trunks I sell, designed to the specifications required of a Hogwarts student. They don't have any special charms on them other than a standard Anti-Unlocking Charm charm, and have standard key locks. Part of the purchase price includes having your name printed centre on the top of the trunk near the front edge. That way it's easily identifiable as your own."

Frowning in thought for a moment, Harry asked, "Charms, sir? The lady at the bookshop, Flourish and Blotts, suggested I get one that also had a - Featherweight Charm on it. Are there any other charms or spells I can have?"

"Certainly, young sir," replied the shopkeeper, "But those sorts of things can cost quite a bit more."

"That's okay," said Harry. "I can afford it. What can I have?"

Looking Harry over a bit the shopkeeper replied, "Forgive me, young sir; but, from your current attire, you don't appear to be able to afford much more than that."

Looking down at the state of his clothing Harry frowned and said, "I guess you're correct in that assumption, sir. First appearances can be deceiving." Looking back up he said, "I guess I better purchase clothing more suited then, first. You wouldn't happen to know where I can - acquire - clothing more suited to my newly discovered station, would you? Then, I'll come back."

Wondering just who this well-spoken young man was, the shopkeeper replied, "Just back up the Alley and next door to Flourish & Blotts. There, you'll find Madam Malkin's. She'll set you to rights."

"Thank you," said Harry, before simply turning around and walking back out the store.

As directed, he easily found Madam Malkin's and entered the store. Once inside, he found a small family with a child about his own age standing on a small circular platform being fitted for what looked like a school uniform.

Waiting for a few minutes he was soon approached by what he thought of as another sales woman, who asked, "Are you here to be fitted for your Hogwarts robes, dear?"

"Yes, Ma'am," he replied. "Plus, some other clothes."

"We can do that," she said. "Come over to the fitting area and we'll get you sorted in a jiffy."

Harry followed the lady across the store and mounted another of the platforms. He turned to see a floor length mirror reflecting his image back to him.

"Now, I'll just take your measurements, dear, and we can get started," the sales woman said, taking out a tape measure that seemed to spring to life and start taking his measurements on it's own. "Feet slightly apart and arms out like the letter 'T' for a few moments, dear," she said, watching carefully.

Harry followed her instructions and watched as a quill rapidly wrote on a floating piece of parchment as she watched the measuring.

"Now, arms down and legs together," she said after a few moments.

Harry complied.

When the tape stopped measuring and the quill stopped writing she plucked both out of the air. The tape she dropped into a pocket of her robes, and the parchment and quill she clipped onto a stand just in front of him and off to the side a bit.

"First Year, dear?" she asked.

"Yes Ma'am."

Taking note of what was written on the parchment she asked, "Are you just looking for the standard robes, dear?"

"No, Ma'am," replied Harry. "I also need a whole new wardrobe for when I'm not wearing school uniform. Such as, for now."

"Ah!" she said, perking up a little. "Well, let's get the Hogwarts robes sorted first. Then we'll move onto the rest of the wardrobe." She ducked out through a door leading to the back of the store.

While Harry was quickly fitted with his Hogwarts uniform and robes, the other student and his family left. This left him as the only customer in the store.

When the sales clerk returned from the back with what he assumed as the rest of his uniform, he said, "As I said, I'm going to need all new other clothing, too, Ma'am."

Glancing up from where she was bundling up his uniform she said, "Yes, dear. And now that we have your uniform set aside, what other clothing do you want?"

Pushing down on his frustration at the woman he said, "As I believe I said, I need a whole new wardrobe." Thinking for a minute he said, "You see, everything item of clothing I currently own, I'm wearing right now!"

The sales clerk reared back as if physically slapped. "What? Do you mean to tell me you have nothing else to _wear_?"

Though even more frustrated Harry replied, "That's exactly what I'm saying, Ma'am. I just found out my parents left me quite a bit of money in that Gringotts bank, so I'm now able to finally buy some clothes of my own."

Worried that the woman was going to call the police, or something - and he couldn't have that happen - he thought harder and said, "I recently had a growth spurt and these things I'm wearing are the only things that fit me now."

That appeared to mollify the woman somewhat. She said, "Outfitting you with a complete wardrobe is going to cost quite a bit of money, young man. Do you think you can afford it?"

"Definitely, Ma'am," he said quite emphatically. He untied his money pouch from his belt and said, "I withdrew quite a large sum from the bank to take care of this."

The woman stood looking at him for a while, frowning. Obviously coming to a conclusion she asked, "Do you have more than, say, a hundred galleons to spend?"

"Yes, Ma'am," replied Harry. "More than that."

Sighing, the woman said, "Very well. I take it you need underwear and shoes, too?"

"_Everything_, Ma'am."

Straightening herself up she gave a curt nod and asked, "Any preferences?"

"No, Ma'am. Except I need clothes for all sorts of weather. And I have no idea what I want or need," replied Harry. "So, I'm hoping you can help me pick out my wardrobe for me."

Giving a wry smile in return she said, "Well, I've not met many boys who have much of a clue about fashion; so, I'm glad to see you have the sense to ask for help in that area."

Smiling back, Harry said, "I'm glad you understand, Ma'am. And, thank you."

"Then let's get to it, shall we?" she asked with a grin. "I think I'm going to have quite a bit of fun doing this."

That began over two hours of constantly dressing and undressing for Harry. He tried on formal, casual and semi casual robes; decided between boxers and briefs, and what colours; he was shown into the 'muggle' clothing area and tried on shirts, trousers, jeans, jackets, coats, scarves, hats, caps, footwear, belts, and other paraphernalia; and even purchased a whole new range of toiletries.

While they were working, Harry told her he was raised in the muggle world, so she explained a lot about the wizarding world to which he'd just entered. Though she occasionally pushed for information about his home life, Harry remained reticent for much of it, and only told her information that didn't identify him or how he was raised. Again, he didn't want her calling the police on him.

However, he did ask where he could find temporary accommodation and used the excuse he had much more shopping to do, and he knew needed to stay over night before heading home. She suggested that the Leaky Cauldron was the best option for short term accommodation. Harry took her suggestion on board.

When they were finished, the woman was shocked to discover the total came to a figure well in excess of the original one hundred galleons; but, Harry paid it without a problem.

After the woman packed and shrunk all his purchases down - with the exception of a muggle baseball style cap, which he immediately donned - Harry gave her a bit of a jaunty wave and headed back up to the Leaky Cauldron. He had noticed the story book about him - or, rather, the fictional Harry Potter - had a pretty good description of him right down to the scar on his forehead. He wanted it covered up and something to cover his face a little. He knew that if he was recognised he would probably be taken by the police back to his Aunt and Uncle's house. And that was the _last_ thing he wanted to happen.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At The Leaky Cauldron the old bartender, Tom, rented him a room under the name of Harrison Smith. Harry was surprised how easy it was for him to get the room, and how few questions were asked about how - or why - a ten year old boy was staying on his own.

Tom ran through a clearly rehearsed spiel about the facilities available to his temporary tenants; such as when meals would be served, room service, shower and bathroom facilities, and behaviour required to remain; and Harry politely accepted his key and headed upstairs.

He dropped his packages off and returned downstairs.

"Is the room to your satisfaction, young sir?" enquired Tom.

"Yes, thank you," replied Harry. "I'm just going to duck out to make a telephone call and I'll be back shortly." And left via the door onto Charing Cross Road.

A few hundred feet back up from where he'd come from the Underground, Harry found the red wooden phone box he'd remembered on the way to the wizarding pub. He ducked in, fished a few pence out his pocket, and made his call to his Aunt.

After telling her he would not be returning as he had decided to 'run away', and had found somewhere else to live; she screeched at him about how ungrateful he was and demanded he never return. He hung up on her before she could go into a full rant.

Heaving a sigh of relief he returned to The Leaky Cauldron and climbed the stairs back to his room.

A quick change into what he was told was basic casual wizard wear and he was back downstairs. He retained his money pouch, document pouch and his Hogwarts letter with the intent on gathering up the rest of his Hogwarts supplies, just in case. He watched as a wizard ahead of him tapped certain bricks on the wall in a certain order and waited for the man to pass through, sticking close behind as he did so.

Once back in the Alley proper Harry headed back down the Alley.

On the way, he spotted a sign on a small building that said '_Owl Office_' that had owls flying in and out of high skylights. He had to send off his acceptance letter back to Hogwarts, so used the opportunity to get it done right away. He found the concept of using owls to send mail both quaint and amazing. The man behind the counter said that many in the wizarding world also kept their own personal owls so they didn't have to keep coming into the Office.

Harry thought it was a good idea to have one, and would get one as soon as he had time. The letter from Hogwarts even said he could have an owl as a pet, if he wanted one. So, he knew he could take it with him.

After he'd unshrunk his purchases, he realised just how much 'stuff' he now owned; and that he'd also have quite a bit more of his school supplies to add to it. Remembering the dimensions of the school trunks in the store he wondered how he was going to fit it all in. He thought he might have to buy two and hoped he'd be allowed both at Hogwarts. He'd ask Mister Porter, the store proprietor.

Continuing his walk down the Alley he returned directly to Porter's Portmanteaus. 'Trunks, first, to put everything in; then, the rest of the shopping,' he thought.

When Harry explained to the portly Mister Porter - and he gave himself a wry grin for that alliteration - his need for more luggage, and being congratulated on his 'proper' wizarding attire, the man took Harry over to another area within the store.

"Here, we have mokeskin lined trunks," explained the man. "They're more expensive than the standard school trunk but they're charmed to be multi-compartmented and to have more room inside than what's apparent from the outside."

Mister Porter demonstrated by opening one trunk and showing Harry what they looked like.

Pleased that his space requirements would be so easily met, Harry asked, "What else can be done with them?"

Mister Porter quickly went through some of the extras available with Harry carefully noting everything the man said. In the end, Harry purchased a standard black school trunk with two compartments, both enlarged. For safety's sake, he had it keyed with a keyless lock that only opened to his own magical signature by him pressing his thumb on a metal plate where a mechanical key would normally be fitted. He also had wheels fitted to one end, plus a permanent Featherweight Charm - as suggested by the lass in the bookshop - that was activated and deactivated by pressing on what he learned to be an embedded rune stone.

Harry ended up paying almost a hundred galleons for the trunk and organised to have it delivered to his room in The Leaky Cauldron. When the man asked him what his name was, Harry was, at first, hesitant to tell him. However, he remembered he had to give it so it was printed on the trunk.

With a sigh, he said, "It's Harry Potter. But _please_ keep it to yourself. I'm trying to remain incognito here."

Recoiling a little in shock the man then bent down to take a closer look at Harry's face. The shopkeeper clearly searched for, and found, the scar on his forehead.

Straightening back up and looking at Harry curiously, he said, "Well, Lordy be. So you are. If you'd told me your name when you first came in I would have known right away you'd be able to purchase one of our more upmarket models of trunk."

With a scowl, Harry said, "I really _am_ trying to remain incognito here. I don't like the fact I'm famous and don't want it bandied about I'm in the Alley. I'd not be able to get anything done, otherwise."

Nodding in response, Mister Porter said, "Well, as you're a high paying customer, I will keep your confidence, Mister Potter. If folks knew you were here you'd get mobbed pretty quickly."

Harry just deepened his scowl.

"However, are you aware you're entitled to have your House crest on your trunk, as well as your name?" the shopkeeper asked.

"No, sir," replied Harry. "However, if everyone else just gets their name, then I'll have that, too." Thinking a bit Harry then asked, "And can it be covered up for the time being? I don't want anyone to see it until I go to Hogwarts."

Thinking a bit, the shopkeeper said, "Certainly. I can put a Wizard Notice-Me-Not Charm on that small area that will mean people won't look at it. And you can remove it with a simple Charm Cancelling Charm when you board the Hogwarts Express on the 1st of September. It's a simple spell that you can do by simply waving your wand across the area and giving the incantation, '_Finite Incantatem_'."

Harry gave a nod and said, "Yes, please. Do that. And, when the trunk's ready, can you have it delivered to The Leaky Cauldron in the name of Harrison Smith? That's my guardian. Tom has been kind enough to hold my things for me in my guardian's name until it's time to leave."

"I can certainly do that for you, Mister Potter," replied the shopkeeper. "Tom often avails others of that service."

"Thank you," said Harry with a bit of relief. He hated lying about himself but he needed to do it if he was _not_ going to get caught and sent back to his unloving relatives.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After paying for his new school trunk Harry exited the store, withdrew his sheet listing his school supplies, and read down to see what to do next. While he didn't actually need the list, as he had it all memorised, it gave him the excuse of keeping his head down and face covered.

'Hmmm - wand, telescope, cauldron, potion supplies, quills and parchment, and an owl plus things to take care of an owl,' he thought. 'I'll start at the bottom of the Alley and work my way back to The Leaky Cauldron, picking up things along the way.'

Harry turned down the Alley and headed for the end.

Though he'd spent quite a bit of time sorting out new clothing and his trunk, the rest went pretty easily. The only delay was in purchasing his wand. He spent about half an hour in the store of the creepy old man before he found a wand eleven inches long, made of Holly with a phoenix feather core. According to the old man, it was supposedly the 'brother' wand to Voldemort's. That, too, he thought creepy.

Harry was glad when he was finally out of the store. He'd purchased his wand, a wand care kit and a wrist holster for it that he could affix to his off, left, arm. He donned the holster, pushed the wand into it and made a few practice draws with it before he left the store.

The rest of the trip back up the Alley meant he was able to collect the rest of his school supplies even quicker than he expected. Many of the shops he visited had already prepared 'kits' of what students would need for Hogwarts.

When he was finally able to return to The Leaky Cauldron he was able to use his own wand and open the portal himself.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once back in The Leaky Cauldron, Tom saw him walk in and told him his new trunk was already in his room; and that dinner would be available from 5.00pm. Harry - Harrison - was just to come down and let him know what he wanted and he'd have it all ready for him in a jiffy.

Harry gave his thanks and headed up to his room. He'd just had a pretty stressful day and knew he'd have an early dinner before finally getting to sleep in a real bed.

Once back in his room he unshrunk the rest of his things, unpacked them and repacked them into his trunk. All his school supplies went in one compartment; his normal wear and toiletries in the other. He left his books out for something to read.

Just after 5.00pm he picked out the books _Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived_ and _An Introduction to the Wizarding World_ and carried them back down to the pub's common room. As soon as he sat, Tom came over and gave him a short menu of what was available for the dinner session.

He gave his order, and ordered a butterbeer when told the wizarding world did not stock 'fizzy drinks', and settled down to read.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After enjoying his first proper meal - ever - Harry remained at the table for a while and continued to read. He'd already filtered out listening to the sounds going on around him and was deep into the fiction-masquerading-as-fact that was _Harry Potter: The Boy Who Lived_. The book contained just enough fact about what actually happened to make the rest of it - the fantasy - appear real. And he was livid.

On a couple of occasions while reading he had to set the book aside and firmly push his anger back into the background using his meditative techniques. At those times he also switched books to _An Introduction to the Wizarding World_, which he found dry but still interesting. It was while reading that book he came to understand a lot of what he saw and experienced while moving about the Alley and the pub.

It was also the second book that gave him an insight in how to deal with the first book. While it appeared laws regarding libel in the wizarding world had not caught up to it's counterparts in the muggle world, a good solicitor/barrister could still go after those who were using his name to profit. And Harry had a particular hate for those who wanted to use him - the Dursleys, included.

However, that was for another day. As the books clearly had a very good description of just what Harry Potter looked like, the next day would be used learning from _Simple Cantrips for the Beauty Conscious_ for methods by which to disguise his appearance.

Noticing the common room emptying, Harry made his way back upstairs to his room, giving the old bartender a little wave as he walked by.

Once in his room Harry put his two books away with the others and settled down for his first night's sleep in a real bed. While lying there, before sleep claimed him, he reviewed his mental 'to-do' list for the next day.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry awoke at 5.30am the next day; the time he always had to rise in the mornings on a weekday, to make breakfast for the Dursleys. At first he was startled to realise he wasn't in his cupboard. It took a moment for him to realise he never had to go back to that place, ever again. He grinned.

Rising, he grabbed his newly purchased personal toiletries and headed for the communal bathroom. In there, he enjoyed a leisurely shower - something he'd never had at the Dursleys - and returned to his room to dress in his new 'civilian' wizarding robes. He found himself grinning the whole time. Not even his perpetual headache could dampen his mood. He did, however, hesitate before strapping his wand holster to his off forearm. It was going to take a little time for him to include it as part of his new automatic morning ritual.

He ducked downstairs to the common room and found Tom just starting to prepare for the new day. "Good morning, Tom," said a chipper Harry.

"And a good morning to you, too, Mister Smith," replied the barman. "The grill's not been warmed up yet. So, breakfast will be available from about 7.00am. If that's alright with you?"

"That'll be fine, thanks," replied Harry. "What's on the menu?"

"Standard fare, young sir," replied the old barman, turning back to what he was doing behind the bar. "Just let me know what you'd like and I'll see what I can do."

Thinking for a few moments, Harry replied, "How about - scrambled eggs on toast with a side of bacon - and - coffee?"

Nodding without looking up, Tom replied, "Can do! Would you like me to have it delivered to your room when it's ready?"

Hesitating a moment, Harry said, "Actually, that sounds like a great idea. Thanks, Tom."

"You're more than welcome," replied the old barman.

And with a sharp nod Harry ducked back upstairs.

By the time the meal was ready Harry was already deep into the book _Simple Cantrips for the Beauty Conscious_ and had marked a few pages. He'd found a charm that would cover the scar on his forehead, one that would change the colour of his eyes, and another that changed the colour of his hair.

He was just finishing changing his hair colour and lengthening it a bit when a young witch delivered his breakfast and placed it on the small table in his room. He thanked the young lady and gave her a galleon tip for her efforts.

She was, at first, startled to seethe gold coin in her hand.

'Hey!' he thought with a smile. 'I have money now. Besides, I liked seeing the expression on her face when I gave it to her.'

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After breaking his fast, Harry went back out to the Alley to take a decent look around. As he'd already collected his supplies for the upcoming school year, plus a lot of personal effects including a whole new wardrobe, this time he was just taking a wander around to see what there was to see. He also had his daily 'to-do' list to run through; but, there was no hurry at present.

First he walked through as much of the Alley as he could. Excluding those shops he'd already visited while purchasing his supplies, he stepped into each shop and memorised the layout. Some were only small and required a step through the door by a few feet and lightly peruse the shelves or racks. Others, the bigger shops, required walking further in and walking the aisles.

It was during this ambulatory sojourn he discovered a small shop up a set of stairs between two larger shops that specialised in eyewear and specialist jewellery. Ascending the stairs and entering the main floor of the shop, he was greeted by an elderly man who took one look at his glasses through his own and muttered, "No, no. _That_ will just not do!"

Warily, Harry asked, "What do you mean?"

"Your spectacles, young sir," said the shopkeeper. "Poor quality muggle eye glasses. Not a single charm to be found."

"Errr..." replied Harry, "I take it that's a _bad_ thing?"

"Definitely," said the shopkeeper. He then pointed to what looked like a muggle dentist's chair and said, "Go sit there. I want to have a look at your eyes."

Still wary, Harry walked across the floor and took a seat in the chair. The old man followed him over.

As soon as Harry was semi-reclined in the chair, the old man used his wand, pointed it at Harry's face and muttered "_Accio muggle spectacles_." The glasses whipped off Harry's face into the old man's outstretched hand.

Harry didn't even twitch in response before his glasses were gone from his face.

Trying his best to focus on what the old shopkeeper was doing, he saw the old man use some sort of chart while looking through the lenses at it. Harry couldn't read the old man's face but he heard him mutter and harrumph a bit.

Dropping the chart back onto a desk, he walked back to Harry and said, "Hold out your hand, palm up."

Harry did as instructed and the old man placed the glasses in Harry's hand. He was about to redon them when the old man put his hand out and blocked him.

"Not yet, young sir," he said gently. "Now I need to check your eyes to see how well your spectacles matched."

He then waved his wand over Harry's eyes. A slight hesitation in the wand movement and Harry heard a muttered, "_Finite_," before the wand was moving again. Harry felt what he could only describe as a very slight itch in the back of his eyes until the man appeared to be done."

"You can put your spectacles back on now, Mister Potter," said the shopkeeper, before he muttered, "For all the good they do."

Frowning, Harry donned his glasses and looked at the man. "I take it you had to remove my glamours to see my eyes properly?" he asked.

"Yes," replied the shopkeeper without remorse. "But, never fear, Mister Potter. I will not speak of your visit to me, today. I pride myself on my discretion," he said, before dropping the timbre of his voice. "Unlike, say, Garrick Ollivander. That man is _always_ spouting off who his clients are, and what their wands are made of. Utterly unprofessional."

"Now," he continued, back in a light manner. "The lenses in your glasses are a very poor match for your needs. I daresay you struggle to properly focus at longer distances, correct?"

"Correct," replied Harry. "But, I've learned to - compensate."

"I daresay you have!" said the man. "However, you've come to the right place to acquire a pair, or more, better suited to your needs."

"Firstly," he said, "You can get up off that chair, for the moment, and take a wander with me amongst my shelves. Let's see if we can find a style or two you're partial to."

Harry rose from his reclined position and followed the man across to where racks of various shapes, styles and types of spectacle frames were housed.

"Take a look around, Mister Potter," he gestured, "And see if there's something that tweaks your fancy. While you do that, I'll get my folder covering the various charms you can have permanently cast on your new lenses and frames."

Harry hadn't planned on getting new glasses; but, that was only because he hadn't thought of it. Now that he was actually looking around in the shop, he found he was quite enthusiastic about the idea. He knew that he only had the ones he did because they came out of a second-hand bin at a local thrift shop in Surrey, not far from Little Whinging.

Thinking a little, he thought he could get a pair for normal wear, a pair that looked more formal - read: expensive - and a pair of sunglasses or something that would otherwise hide his distinctive eye colour. Besides, unusual spectacles could help to mask his face.

Harry only wore the aviator style he wore because that was what was given to him. Trying on a few different pairs of different shapes, he found he quite liked how a more - flatter - rectangle with rounded corners looked. He thought of those for more formal occasions with frameless lenses and silver fittings. Next, he found a more rugged pair of a similar shape with solid bronze frames.

For sunglasses he wanted something with a more ultra-modern feel. He turned to the shopkeeper and asked, "How much do you know of modern muggle styles?"

Unsurprised by the question, the shopkeeper replied with a small smile, "Reach out to the racks on which the spectacles are housed and give it a slight tug."

Turning back to the rack, Harry reached out, grabbed onto the rack, and gave it a pull. The whole rack, plus the board behind it, pulled open like a cupboard door. Behind it, Harry found what he was looking for; a whole pile of new racks with spectacles.

"Sweet!" exclaimed Harry.

Behind the front rack he found plenty of brand names from many popular to expensive brands. Pulling open other racks he finally found a whole section covering sunglasses.

His eyes were drawn to a pair that had a single, wrap-around lens; and were frameless except for the top edge, and had black arms. To him they looked like what he'd been told were Raybands, or something. He loved them at first sight.

Taking them down off the rack he turned back to the shopkeeper with a wide grin and said, "I _love_ them."

Smiling back, the shopkeeper said, "Excellent! And, I hope, if someone asks where you acquired them - except if they're a pureblood - you let them know they can come to me to acquire a pair of their own?"

"Yeah, I can do that," Harry said enthusiastically.

"Excellent," said the shopkeeper. "Now, I take it you want all three pairs?"

"Yes, please," replied Harry.

"While I adjust these to match the needed corrections to your natural eyesight..." he said handing Harry a folder with brochures made of parchment, "... I want you to skim through this and take note of what charms within it you'd like me to apply to your new spectacles."

The old man walked out through a door marked 'No Admittance' while Harry went back to the semi-reclined chair to rapidly skim through the folder.

After ten minutes the man came back with the three pairs of glasses and asked, "Picked out what charms you want me to apply to these for you?"

"Yes, thank you," replied Harry as he handed him the folder back. "Can you put on all five of the Impervious, Anti-fog, Self-Cleaning, Anti-Legilimency and Anti-Memory Charm charms on them?"

"I can," replied the old man, "But, if you have the Self-Cleaning Charm on them, you don't need the Anti-Fog charm. The Self-Cleaning charm will do the work of the Anti-Fog charm so it becomes superfluous."

Nodding, Harry said, "I can see that, yeah. Okay, then I'd like those _four_ placed on them."

"Very well, Mister Potter," replied the shopkeeper. "Come back after lunch and I'll have your new spectacles ready for you."

Getting back up, Harry said, "That's great, thank you. How much do I owe you?"

"I don't have the full tally yet," he replied. "However, I suspect it will be in the range of - say - eighty galleons?"

Harry drew ninety galleons from his coin pouch and handed them to the old shopkeeper. "Keep it and just give me the change when I return this afternoon," he said when the man expressed his concern it was too much.

Back out of the shop, Harry continued building his mental map of Diagon Alley.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

He was just about to enter a dimmer and somewhat grmier side alley when an elderly witch tapped him on his shoulder. When Harry turned to see who had accosted him, the elderly witch kindly but sternly said, "Do not go in there, young man. That's Knockturn Alley. I'm sure your parents would be most wroth with you if they learned you had entered that place."

"I'm sorry, I don't know what you mean?" replied Harry. "What's so bad about it?"

"Knockturn Alley is full of dark creatures, wizards and witches; and they generally only sell dark artefacts and the like," she said. "It is not a place for a young one, such as yourself."

Harry gave a nod, thanked her for her concern, and skipped it. He'd wait until he had better control of his magic before venturing down that particular Alley.

Instead he moved across the mouth of the Alley and continued his mapping. Mapping Knockturn Alley would be left until he actually had a legitimate reason for entering.

His next delay occurred at Flourish and Blotts. After reading the short blurb on Legilimency and Memory Charms, such as the Obliviate Curse, he wanted to learn more about that side of the mind arts. He prided himself on his eidetic memory; and the thought of someone messing with it outside of his own control somewhat frightened him.

After a bit of advice from the bookstore shopkeeper's assistant he purchased a general tome on the Mind Arts, '_An Introduction to the Mind Arts_', and one that focussed specifically on Occlumency and Legilimency, '_Protecting Your Mind and Invading Others_'. While there he also acquired a book on formal writing within the British magical community, '_A Formal Guide to Letter Writing_' that he hoped would cover how to write to the Heads of the allied Houses regarding the alliances. He knew he had only a few weeks, at the most, before he wrote to them as his father requested. All three books were packaged and shrunk for him once he paid for them.

'Damn!' thought Harry. 'Even more studying to do, and we're not even at school yet.'

His last stop before stopping for an early lunch was at Eeylop's Owl Emporium.

Walking into the store he felt as if he was being pulled or called to the rear of the shop. And there, just over head height, was the most beautiful bird he'd ever seen; a Snowy Owl. The owl just stared right back.

Taking down the gilded cage in which the bird was housed, Harry took the cage to the front counter.

"You needs be careful with that owl, young sir," said the older sales clerk from behind the counter. 'She's a right nasty one, that one is."

"Thank you for your concern, sir," replied Harry quietly. "However, I just have this strong feeling this bird is for me."

Giving a shrug, the old shopkeeper said, "They're your fingers she's likely to bite off. She's got a real nasty bite on her."

Giving a shrug right back Harry said, "Nevertheless, I'll take her."

The shopkeeper then suggested Harry purchase some owl treats and a perch for her to 'hopefully convince her not to bite yer fingers off', and gave him a pamphlet on the care of a personal owl.

After paying for his purchase, Harry dropped the treats, shrunken perch and pamphlet into one of his pockets while he carried the cage outside.

With his latest purchases, Harry crossed the Alley and took table outside Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour. He lreft the caged owl sitting on the small table.

In there, he ordered a three scoop ice cream sundae and a coffee.

Returning to his room in The Leaky Cauldron Harry set his new pet owl - who he named Hedwig - up on her new perch near the window, so she could enjoy the sunlight. Then he set to work reading the various texts he'd acquired, before he returned to the Alley a couple hours later to pick up his new glasses.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	3. Meeting Them

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Three – Meeting Them**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After the first two fun-filled days wandering about Diagon Alley and getting both his supplies and bearings, Harry then spent the next few weeks mainly hunkered down in his room studying. He had to assimilate quite a significant amount of information in a short space of time before he felt confident enough to start contacting people based on the request of his father.

His only break was to return to the bank early on the morning of his eleventh birthday, 31st July, to take up his Head of House ring for the House of Potter and to read his parent's Will. For the ring, it was only a simple matter of placing the ring on his right ring finger. The magic of the ring flashed before resizing itself, signifying he was the rightful Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter.

Immediately afterwards his parent's Will was read. In it, it was confirmed who Harry's rightful guardians _should_ have been; and still should be. He asked for the Will to be executed but stated that neither the Order of the Phoenix, nor Albus Dumbledore, should receive their bequeathments. He asked the goblins to file paperwork to that effect immediately who would, in turn, file it with the Ministry.

He also asked for, and received, a certified copy of the Will for his own possession. And the goblins partly reactivated the Potter vaults.

After leaving the bank he returned to The Leaky Cauldron to continue his studying.

By Sunday, 4th August, Harry felt he was ready to start sending out his formal letters re-establishing alliances with the various Houses. His first was to the current Regent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom, Madam Augusta Longbottom. He also knew the Scion of the House was a boy the same age as he, Neville Francis Longbottom, and that there was only a single day between them in age.

As soon as he finished writing that letter, using the best parchment and ink he could procure from Scribbulus Everchanging Inks, he set to writing a similar letter to the Regent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Bones, Madam Amelia Bones. As with Neville Longbottom, Scion Longbottom, the Heir Presumptive for the House of Bones was someone his own age, Susan Bones.

By the time he'd finished, Hedwig had returned and he sent off his second letter.

To both he introduced himself, as was required, and invited them to contact him for a meeting to formally re-establish the alliances. The prose was formal, as per tradition. So, he knew the response would come in a similar fashion. And that it wouldn't be rushed. As they were both considered 'light' families, he asked each for a meeting at their convenience in any location they desired. He hoped the sign of trust he gave doing that made the meetings that much easier. And that neither would be concerned when he was not accompanied by a guardian. He also asked for the meeting to occur near the end of the month just before he left for Hogwarts to stop them from making enquiries before he was able to confront Dumbledore.

His own research into the Blacks, learned through gentle probing questions of shopkeepers within the Alley - they were always the biggest gossipmongers and, therefore, the best source for information of the Houses - led him to believe the Headship of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black was currently vacant. The position rightfully belonged to Sirius Black. However, with Black in the wizarding prison, Azkaban, and Black unable to take the Headship while he was incarcerated, it was believed Dumbledore had been acting in Proxy for that House since the death of Arcturus Black a few months earlier. Harry had no intention of contacting Dumbledore.

He had raised the matter with Bloodfang of the goblins when he next visited. It was clear the old goblin knew some important information regarding the Blacks, and Sirius Black in particular, but was implacable in providing information claiming client confidentiality. What bothered Harry was why the goblin clammed up when asked about Black. He wondered why the goblins would refuse to divulge the identity of the Head of House Black when that information was readily provided for the other Houses.

The fourth House, the Greengrasses, were still Headed by Cygnus Greengrass; the same person who was responsible for the marriage contract between he and Scion Greengrass, Daphne Greengrass, Heiress Presumptive to the Noble and Most Ancient House. That letter would take time to write as it required to be one combining both the re-establishment of the alliance between Potter and Greengrass, and re-establishing/introducing himself to the father of Daphne. The books he had procured were adamant in their instruction he not contact the girl directly until they had been formally introduced.

Speculation held that the Greengrasses were considered a grey and neutral House, so it behooved Harry to take care in contacting them. A neutral ground for the first meeting would be considered prudent. However, the betrothal contract made such a choice moot and indicated the meeting should occur at _his_ preferred location as the betrothed groom. However, as he did not currently _have_ a place to call his own, he would give the Greengrasses the 'hometown advantage' and hoped, just as with the Boneses and Longbottoms, it showed he was giving them his trust.

Before, sending the letter to the Greengrasses, though, Harry intended to speak to both Mesdames Longbottom and Bones to get their views on how he should proceed. He felt asking for their advice, and probably acting upon it, would help cement the newly re-established alliances with those two Houses.

If he wasn't already old friends with his ongoing headache the politics of the situation would give him another.

In the mean time, he kept reading and learning as much as he could about the wizarding world.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At precisely 6.00pm on the 26th August, the fireplace flashed to light with green flames. Stumbling out to land on his butt was Harry Potter. He wore formal robes without crest of a dark, almost black green silk. His under-robe shirt was of an emerald green to match his eyes.

A young boy of similar age with sandy-coloured hair and wearing his own formal robes of deep red stepped forward with a grin and helped Harry back to his feet.

"Thank you," said Harry, with a sheepish grin of his own. "I'm not used to floo travel."

"It can take some getting used to," the sandy-haired lad replied before stepping back and, in a formal voice, saying, "I, Neville Francis Longbottom, Heir Longbottom, formally welcome you to Longbottom Hall and offer to you our hospitality this evening."

Harry, recognising the formal phrasing from his reading of the wizarding world etiquette, replied, "I, Harry James Potter, Heir Potter, thank you for and accept your welcome and offer of hospitality, Heir Longbottom." Reaching into his robes he brought forth a small gift-wrapped package and, offering it, said, "I offer you this gift as per the old ways."

Accepting the gift, Neville replied, "I accept and thank you for your gift, Heir Potter."

Letting go with a relieved sigh, Neville said with a grin, "Thank Merlin that's done with. You can call me Neville, by the way." And offered his hand.

Harry shook the boy's hand with a wide grin of his own and said, "Call me Harry, please."

Standing a little straighter again, Neville said, "I'm now to escort you to the Sitting Room where Gran - errr – Madam, Dowager Lady, Longbottom awaits us."

Giving a nod, Harry said, "Then by all means; please, lead us."

Neville led Harry into the Entrance Hall of the Hall, across and through another door. In there he was greeted by a witch appearing in her middle ages for a muggle but in her seventies for a witch. He formally greeted her before she gestured to a seat opposite a coffee table. He waited until she took seat before he sat down. Neville sat on the same side as his Gran but a little apart.

"Now that the formalities are out of the way," she began, "How have you been, Mister Potter?"

"It's just Harry, please, Ma'am," replied Harry. "After all, you're the grandmother of my godbrother, Neville. And I've been well."

Neville, a little startled, blurted, "Godbrother?"

"Neville!" Madam Longbottom scolded.

Neville looked a little abashed at the scolding.

"Yeah, Neville," said Harry, to quickly skip over the uncomfortableness of the situation. "Your mother is my godmother. And, from what I can gather, _my_ mother was _your_ godmother. As far as I can see, that makes us godbrothers; brothers in all but blood."

"He is correct, Neville," said Madam Longbottom. "Both your parents were close and became even closer when Dear Alice and Lily both fell pregnant at the same time." Turning back to Harry she said, "And I'm very sorry for your loss - Harry. I loved your parents as if they were my own children."

"Thank you, Ma'am," said Harry with a little sorrow. "I appreciate your sentiments."

Giving only a nod in response, and with a slight hesitation before continuing, Madam Longbottom then said, "And, as you are Neville's 'godbrother' as you put it, perhaps you might find it within yourself to refer to me as Neville does, as Gran."

A little startled, Harry was a little hesitant before replying, "Thank you - I think I'd like that - Gran." And gave a small smile.

"Good," she replied. "Now, perhaps you can tell us where you've been for the past ten years?"

With a small sigh, and not a little weariness, Harry decided to tell them both a rough abridged version of his life. He kept secrets, of course, but he gave them some detail. He just didn't know how much to tell them yet so decided to withhold some information.

Halfway through the telling of his biography a house elf popped in and reported dinner was ready. Harry continued his story after it was finished and they were once more sitting in the Sitting Room. Madam Longbottom was drinking a sherry while Neville and Harry were drinking butterbeers.

While he was reticent to do so, Harry felt it would be an overt sign of trust to show the letter from his father to the Dowager Lady. So, he offered it and allowed her to read it. He was surprised to hear the prim and proper witch muttering quite sulphurously about what she had read.

"It appears, Mister Potter," she said returning the letter, once she'd calmed down a bit, "that you should have been raised here at Longbottom Hall."

Surprised, Harry asked, "Pardon? I was led to believe Uncle Frank and Aunt Alice are - currently incapable of caring for me."

Realising what he'd said he apologised, "Sorry, that was rather - abrupt - of me."

With an expression of slight pain she said, "Not your fault, dear. But I think I should explain."

Harry gave a small nod and gesture for her to continue.

"You see, your parents and you were attacked on 31st October," she explained. "Frank and dear Alice were not attacked until almost a week later on 5th November."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"However," she went on, "according to what you've told me, you were placed with those muggle relatives of yours on the evening of 1st November by Albus Dumbledore. That was four days _before_ Frank and Alice were attacked."

With comprehension dawning, Harry said, "That means I should have been here, at Longbottom Hall, instead of with the Dursleys, when Uncle Frank and Aunt Alice were attacked!"

"Yes, dear," she replied.

"Please forgive me for asking; but, could it have been that Uncle Frank and Aunt Alice rejected me because they, too, were at risk of being attacked? Maybe they thought I'd be safer if I wasn't with them?"

Shaking her head, she replied with a frown, "No, they'd have never done that. If, as this letter suggests, Frank and Dear Alice were listed as the first option for your care when - if - something untoward happened to your parents, then they would _not_ have turned you away."

With a sigh Harry growled, "Dumbledore. He completely ignored my parents' wishes. That - man - I find more and more to blame for what happened to me under the _oh_ so tender mercies of the Dursleys. What I cannot figure out is _why_ he did it."

"That, I cannot tell you," she replied.

Straightening himself up a bit Harry said, "Anyway, that's something I intend to ask him directly when I finally meet him. In the meantime, I wonder if you can offer any advice about how to deal with the Greengrasses and the betrothal contract between myself and Lady Daphne."

After a short discussion on how to handle the situation, she offered Longbottom Hall as a neutral venue. However, he declined the offer but accepted her advice. Her advice, thankfully, matched his already recently established views.

At the end of the night Harry was pleased he had met one of his father's requests, to re-establish the alliance with House Longbottom. And he had answers to some of the questions of which he'd been plagued over the past month. He also agreed to meet up with Neville on the train to Hogwarts the next Sunday morning.

"I will, of course, probably be sitting with Lady Daphne, at least," said Harry. "She is, after all, my betrothed. I hope this will not be of concern to you?"

"Nope," said Neville. "I've met Daphne. I like her. She'll also probably want to be with her friend Tracy. And, I have no problem with her, either."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next evening - again, at precisely 6.00pm - the fireplace flashed to light with green flames. Stumbling out and again landing on his butt in the parlour of Bones Manor was Harry Potter. Again he wore formal robes without crest. The colour this time was plain black. His under-robe shirt was of a light green. Susan Bones awaited him just as Neville had done the previous day.

A quick run through the same greetings and responses - after she'd stopped giggling at him - and she was escorting him through to a formal lounge to meet her aunt, Madam Amelia Bones, current Regent for House Bones.

Harry found Madam Bones to be a no-nonsense kind of woman, very similar to Madam Longbottom. However, where Madam Longbottom was more a regal grand lady, Madam Bones was more down to earth; more of a 'beer and pretzels' rather than 'tea and scones' kind of woman.

Harry was surprised just how similar the two meetings were. Though, what he had read did not go into too great a detail about the intricacies of such meetings, he felt he shouldn't have been surprised.

The biggest difference, though, was the penetrating questions Madam Bones asked him about his past. Whenever he was reticent to reveal too much, he knew the older witch, the Head of the DMLE, knew he was withholding the information. At such times, she approached the matter from a slightly different angle; a slightly different perspective. By the end of the meeting Harry was surprised about just how much he _had_ divulged.

He could also tell the older witch was trying not to give off the impression of great anger. Clearly, she was not happy with what she had learned from what Harry told her. However, on such occasions, she kept her own counsel.

As he did with Madam Longbottom, Harry offered the letter from his father to the witch and asked her for advice on how to proceed with his meeting with the Greengrasses. Her advice matched Madam Longbottom's.

As with the Longbottoms, at the end of the night he was pleased to have re-established the second of the alliances with which his father had charged him. And, also agreed to meet with young Susan on the train to Hogwarts. He also mentioned sitting with Neville and likely Daphne and her friend, Tracey. And Susan mentioned her friend Hannah would also likely join them.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry's meeting with the Greengrasses was scheduled for 5.00pm on the Thursday night prior to departure on the Hogwarts Express. This time he wore a set of formal robes in iridescent dark green with a white undershirt. He took special care with his appearance with the only 'slight' to his appearance being his untameable messy black hair. He also wore his rimless glasses as they enhanced his eyes.

Stepping into the fireplace at The Leaky Cauldron he stepped out into the marble-floored parlour at Greengrass Estate - and promptly fell onto his butt, yet again.

Muttering to himself about his innate clumsiness, and forcing back his anger, he rose to his feet to be greeted by a stunningly dressed middle-aged witch who was gently smiling at him.

"Sorry," he muttered louder, brushing himself off. "I hate floo travel."

Smiling more openly at his remarks, the witch waited for him to brush himself down a bit before stepping forward and saying, "Allow me."

She brought forth her wand and, with a few quick gestures and a murmured incantation banished all the remaining soot from his robes. Then she stepped back, resheathed her wand and said, "Welcome to Greengrass Manor, Mister Potter. I am Lady Isabel Greengrass. On behalf of my husband and myself I offer you welcome and our hospitality this evening."

Straightening himself up, Harry thought, 'Huh. A slightly less than formal welcome. I guess I wing it.' He replied, "Thank you for your invitation and welcome, Lady Greengrass."

He reached into his robes and drew forth a small wrapped gift. Offering it to her, he said, "Please accept this small token in response to your generosity."

Smiling, she stepped forward and accepted the gift before dropping it into a pocket of her robes. She turned around slightly and took his elbow before saying, "Nicely done, Mister Potter. Perhaps you can now do me the honour of escorting me to the lounge? My Lord Greengrass awaits us there."

With a slight bow, Harry replied, "Of course, Ma'am," and allowed her to steer him out of the room and through to the lounge.

As they were walking, she leaned down and whispered to him, "Have no fear, Harry. We're _all_ family here."

On hearing her words, Harry visibly relaxed and let out the breath he didn't realise he was holding with a sigh.

Entering the formal lounge he saw a tall man rise from an armchair and turn towards him.

Lady Greengrass said, "My Lord, I present Mister Harry Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter." Turning to Harry and stepping away a little, she said, "Mister Potter, I present Lord Cygnus Greengrass, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass."

Harry, recognising his cue, walked forward and offered his hand to Lord Greengrass, "Thank you for your invitation for this evening, Lord Greengrass."

With a small smile the older man said, "And thank you for accepting our invitation, Mister Potter." He then indicated an armchair across from where he was sitting and said, "Please, sit."

Harry moved around and sat on the offered armchair and sat back, hoping he looked quite relaxed as he did so - even though he wasn't. He waited for the Greengrasses to find their own seats across from him. He hesitated before saying, "I must apologise for not being in contact with you sooner. However, I have been - kept - from my heritage and the wizarding world in general these past ten years.

"I only - rediscovered - the wizarding world at the end of July and have been working hard to learn everything I need to gain a better understanding of this world. That led me to discover a letter from my father awaiting me in a vault in Gringotts."

He reached into his robes and withdrew the letter from his father. He offered it across to the man opposite.

"It is a personal letter," he continued. "But I hope it goes some way to allow you to understand my delay in contacting you."

Frowning, Lord Greengrass glanced back at Harry for a moment before opening the letter and reading.

When he was finished he offered the letter back and said, "Thank you for allowing me to read such a personal letter, Mister Potter. It does explain some matters.

"However, we have attempted to contact you on numerous occasions over the past ten years; to, at the very least, ensure ourselves you're still alright. But, every owl has been unable to track you down; and the mail has returned to us unopened."

Having heard the unasked question Harry sighed a bit and said, "For whatever reason I do not yet understand, Albus Dumbledore saw fit to - place me - in the home of my muggle relatives immediately after the events of 31st October 1981.

"Until I received my letter informing me I had been accepted into the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry on 24th July, I was unaware of my heritage. The Hogwarts letter was the first time I had _received_ any contact from the wizarding world. I have no idea why any correspondence, other than my Hogwarts letter, sent to me by people in the wizarding world has not found me. I am as upset with the situation - if not more so - than you are.

"Since the day I received my Hogwarts letter I have been - scrambling, for wont of a better word - to learn everything I can about both my heritage and my place in this world. As you would understand, it's been a bit of a shock."

Clearly surprised, Lady Greengrass asked, "No other mail? What about your bank statements from Gringotts?"

"Nothing, I'm afraid," replied Harry. "I can only surmise Dumbledore did not want me aware of the wizarding world until I was of age to enter Hogwarts. I _think_ it's because he didn't want me to grow up being famous. Maybe he thought if I did I'd grow up to be arrogant, or something. It will be the leading issue I raise with him when I meet him."

"It's illegal to intercept Gringotts mail!" exclaimed Lady Greengrass.

"So they've informed me," replied Harry with a frown. "However, as he's _claimed_ he's my magical guardian through your parliament, the Wizengamot, he's used that position to stop me getting my mail. And there's little I can do about it.

"What I have done is, with the help of the goblins, created an alias under the name Harrison Smith for purposes of receiving mail. It's not so much a fake identity as a way to bypass whatever Dumbledore's done to block my mail for a select few."

"And explains why you asked us to write to Harrison Smith with our response to your letter," mused Lord Greengrass. "And also explains why no one's seen hide nor hair of you since that night ten years ago."

"Yes, Sir," said Harry.

"And people wonder why we don't ally ourselves with the 'Light'," mused the older man.

Turning to his wife he said, "Perhaps you should go and speak of this with our oldest before bringing her in here to meet her betrothed. It may - placate her somewhat."

Lady Greengrass smiled back before replying, "I believe that would be the wisest course of action." Turning to Harry she rose, as did Harry, before saying, "If you will excuse me, Mister Potter?"

"Of course, Ma'am," he replied with a slight bow.

As the older woman left the room Harry retook his seat.

When he was once more seated, Lord Greengrass said, "I suppose this meeting is also about our alliance with the House of Potter?"

"Yes, Sir," replied Harry. "I am still learning my place in the wizarding world. And what it means to be 'Light', 'Dark' and 'Neutral'. However, as the letter from my father clearly states, an alliance between our two houses is something he was keen on my renewing. I do not know enough _not_ to - acquiesce - to his request. Plus, I figured with the betrothal contract, it became a moot point anyway."

"Quite!" smiled the older man.

Hesitating a moment, Harry said, "I know very little about my parents, Sir. I've heard some from Mesdames Longbottom and Bones, but I believe they were not part of my parent's inner circle of friends. I was hoping, as it appears you and Lady Greengrass _were_ in that circle, you could help me to understand my parents better."

With a look of understanding, Lord Greengrass sighed and said, "I first met your father and mother when we were at Hogwarts. Your father was already friends with three other boys; Sirius Black, Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew. Your mother and Isabel became friends in third year when they took Arithmancy together.

"Your father and the other three were all sorted into Gryffindor, I was sorted into Slytherin, and your mother and Isabel were sorted into Ravenclaw. Your father, Black, Lupin and Pettigrew were a tight knit group that quickly made a name for themselves as pranksters. Actually, it was more like your father, Black and Lupin were a tight knit group with Pettigrew always hanging around them.

"The four of them called themselves The Marauders; and they kind of wreaked havoc amongst the student population and staff with their pranks. However, there were some of us that quickly deduced that, besides the staff, their pranks were aimed at the 'Dark' families and those who's parents were probably Death Eaters. Students, such as myself, were also the victims of their pranks, but only because I was a Slytherin and their prank was aimed at our house in general.

"There were some who always seemed to be an individually targeted victim. Severus Snape, the current Potions Master at Hogwarts, was always one such victim; as were Bulstrode, Avery, the Lestrange Brothers, Rosier, and the other Blacks. It became very apparent they were almost exclusively targeting those they perceived as being future Death Eaters.

"On graduation, we learned that your mother, Lily Evans, was a secret fifth member of the Marauders in their final year. She and Lupin were the brains behind some of the best and biggest pranks Hogwarts have ever known," he smiled in reminiscence.

"Because it was a time of war, many of us left school to immediately join the Auror Corps. In our year, there were your father, myself, Sirius Black, Edgar Bones, Frank and Alice Longbottom, Gideon and Fabian Prewett, and quite a few others. However, it was us eight for whom Black coined the term 'The Auror Marauders'. Though we were supposed to be in training, we spent quite a bit of time pranking the existing Auror Corps and the training staff. It was during that time I became very good friends with both of your parents, as well as the others. That friendship continued into our Auror career once we completed training.

"And that leads us to the evening of 1st August 1980," he said, shifting forward in his chair slightly. "Young Neville Longbottom was born to Frank and Alice late on the night of 30th July, then you were born during the early hours of 31st July. My daughter, Daphne, was born in early June so was only a few weeks old at this stage.

"Your father invited the male members of the Auror Marauders to the cottage in Godric's Hollow to - wet the baby's head, so to speak. That's new father code for get blind drunk in celebration. Of course, this was also the first time we were able to wet the baby's head for Daphne; so I was getting just as drunk and rowdy as the rest.

"I don't know when it happened but it was very late at night. As it was explained to me by one of the Prewett brothers later, someone - I think it was Black - got it into their head that Daphne and you were the best looking babies ever; and that you needed to be protected from 'undesirables' who'd only be after you because of your looks and the power you would wield in the future; and, as such, to protect you both, a betrothal contract between the two of you should be written up immediately.

"Someone found a book that had the text of standard contracts - and, again, I think it was Black who 'found' it, or more than likely had it with him for this - and Gideon, I think it was, who quickly wrote up the contract." With a sigh he said, "Again, someone had a blood quill; probably Black, again. So, both your father and I signed the damned thing using the quill.

"It wasn't until the next morning James, your father, and I woke up to find we'd betrothed you and my daughter to be married when you came of age or were otherwise emancipated. By then, Black had already disappeared again into hiding as the Potter Secret Keeper. And your father and I had to face the music with our wives at Saint Mungo's that afternoon."

"Yes, and I made you sleep on the couch for the rest of the month as part-penance," said a voice from the doorway.

Harry turned in his chair and saw Lady Greengrass had just stepped through the door with a blonde-haired girl with bright blue eyes standing alongside her. The girl was alternatively glaring at Lord Greengrass and Harry.

'This must be Daphne,' thought Harry. 'And, Dad was right; she _is_ a beauty.'

Both 'men' rose from their seats as the two ladies came forward.

"Ah!" said Lord Greengrass as an aside to Harry. With a gesture towards the girl he said, "I present to you, Mister Potter, my daughter, Daphne Ophelia Greengrass - your betrothed."

Daphne just glared at him as if attempting to kill him with her eyes.

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Dinner with the Greengrasses then became a much more relaxed affair except for the death glares Lord Greengrass was getting from his oldest daughter. His youngest, though, Astoria, a nine year old brunette with the same startling blue eyes, was having a great time twigging her sister about 'how lucky she was' to be marrying the Boy-Who-Lived, and how she must be 'ever so pleased' Harry was 'such a good looking boy', plus others.

Lady Greengrass, or Isabel as he was invited to call the lady, appeared quite amused by her youngest's antics but Lord Greengrass appeared to wince on occasion by some of the more outrageous things the young girl said. Harry quickly worked out that Lord Greengrass, Cygnus, was clearly under orders not to say anything in response and take whatever was said as yet more part-payment for the betrothal contract.

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or be horrified by some of the things the young girl said. Instead, he decided Cygnus was on his own and hunkered down in his chair hoping to not draw attention to himself.

It wasn't until young Astoria, Tori, sweetly asked her father when he was going to arrange a betrothal contract for her and some bloke named Cedric Diggory - because he was 'dreamy' - that Isabel finally stepped in and called a halt to it. Harry almost laughed out loud when he saw the look of gratitude on Cygnus's face when he looked at his wife.

He could not, however, stop the slight snort of amusement that escaped his lips. And that started Daphne in on him. Clearly, the girl had been bottling up her anger at the situation and she had decided to unload her ire on Harry.

"You might think this is _funny_, Harry James Potter, but I _don't_," she snipped. "No _modern_ family uses betrothal contracts, these days; and I'm _not_ pleased I'm _subjected_ to one forcing me to marry _you_!"

"Peace, my Lady!" replied Harry softly with raised hands. "It appears I'm as much the victim of a prank carried out in August 1980 by Sirius Black as you. I assure you, the man is lucky he's currently incarcerated in Azkaban and out of my personal reach."

Not knowing how to respond she just glared back.

Harry thought, 'Ha! Hopefully, I've headed _that_ particular rant off.'

He also noticed Cygnus make a small gesture with his wine goblet as if offering him a toast of congratulations.

"So," she asked with a lower venomous voice, obviously changing tactics, "Am I _that_ repulsive?"

"No, no! Not at all!" replied Harry. "I'm more worried we'd be introduced as Lady Potter and her husband, that Harry bloke; or, that I'd be completely ignored, lost in the shadows of your radiant beauty!"

That stunned the table until Astoria piped up and said, "Oooohhh! He's _good_!" Before turning to her sister and saying, "If you don't want him, Daffy, _I'll_ take him! _I_ wouldn't mind being Lady Potter if he's going to say things like _that_."

That elicited an unladylike snort from Isabel and a grin from Cygnus.

Though her cheeks pinked a bit, Daphne just huffed, ignored everyone, and proceeded to assassinate her roast potatoes with her flatware.

"Round One to the future Lord Potter, methinks," muttered Isabel to her husband.

Harry was glad of the time he'd run out of reading material and 'borrowed' a couple of his aunt's 'Penny Dreadful' romance novellas to read until he could get more books.

Over dessert, talk turned to which Houses Harry and Daphne thought they might be sorted into. Daphne thought she might be in Slytherin or Ravenclaw, while Harry thought Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff.

When Isabel asked why those two Houses, Harry replied, "I think I'm smart enough to make my way in Ravenclaw, plus I've heard they have their own library in their common room that I would love to have access to. And I know that Hufflepuff House get's a bad rep, but I've no problem with being considered a hard worker and loyal to friends and family.

"Though my father and his friends were in Gryffindor, I don't want to be there just because it's expected of me. Besides, I don't really consider myself all that brave. At least, I don't consider bravery as a defining feature over my other qualities. That would make me seem all brawn and no brain.

"And I'm not interested in Slytherin because, while I consider myself to be somewhat cunning, and I _may_ be able to carry off 'guile' if I worked at it, I don't think I'm all that ambitious. Unless you consider growing up to be a good father and husband and a self-responsible man to be an ambition.

"How about you, Daphne?" he asked.

"Unlike you, I think I'd manage to carry off cunning and guile quite well. And I'm certainly ambitious," she replied before lowering her head and the timbre of her voice with sadness. "However, it's rather pointless for me to be ambitious _now_, isn't it?"

Startled by how dejected she sounded, Harry said, "You can be as ambitious as you want, Daphne. Irrespective of my earlier words I'm not adverse to being married to the upcoming Minister of Magic, the Head of Saint Mungo's or the leading world renown Potions Mistress, Lady Daphne Potter; or whatever it is you wish to do. I hope you're willing to be at least my equal, if not surpass me. I can be just as happy being happy with _your_ successes as with my own."

Daphne's head shot up on hearing that and stared straight at Harry in shock. "You do?" she asked in a quiet voice with eyes becoming moist with tears.

"Definitely!" he firmly replied.

"I..." she started before suddenly pushing her chair back and mumbling, "Excuse me," and dashing out of the room.

Looking at Harry with what he considered to be no small measure of respect, Isabel said, "And excuse me, Mister Potter. I need to go and - check on a few things." She, too, pushed her chair away from the table and left the room, following after her daughter.

Cygnus smiled at Harry and said, "You're going to have to stop that, Mister Potter. You're making me look bad by my not being as considerate as _you_ are showing yourself to be."

Harry blushed and said, "I just don't like the idea she would see a marriage between us as being - a burden or disappointment in her life. I may not know her yet, but that's irrelevant to me. Everyone has the right to be happy with their life and I cannot countenance being the cause of someone's misery.

"I hope that maybe the ladies of your House will come to view the betrothal contract as you showing great foresight towards your eldest daughter's happiness."

Cygnus snorted in response and said, "Are you _sure_ you're not going to be sorted into Slytherin? You're definitely showing the diplomatic traits required to succeed in that House."

Harry just shrugged. "A turn of the century French poet and essayist, Charles Péguy, once said, 'He who does not bellow the truth when he knows the truth makes himself the accomplice of liars and forgers'. I do not wish to be offensive, but I have no desire for the - politicking - that appears prevalent in the House of the Snakes in this current climate."

"Noted," the older man said with a grin. Then, turning to Astoria, he said, "As for you, young lady, it's time for bed."

"Awww!" she pouted. "But I want to hear Harry say something nice to me."

Harry smiled at her and said, "Fair maiden, there are no words I can convey to you that would do justice to your own beauty. That's why I was hesitant to attempt to do so."

Cygnus snorted, while Astoria sat there for a few seconds with a look partway between awe and being gobsmacked. She then turned to her father and begged, "I meant what I said. If Daffy doesn't want him, can I keep him?"

Cygnus kindly said back, "After tonight I don't think _Daphne_ will be willing to let him go. Now, off to bed."

With a bit of a sulk Astoria hopped off her chair and walked around to give her father a hug and kiss goodnight. Hesitating a moment she then rushed to Harry and gave him one, too. "G'night!" she blurted, before blushing, giggling and dashing from the room.

"Well, you appear to have won over my three ladies," said Cygnus. "I wonder what your next trick will be. Shall we retire to the lounge to continue our discussion?"

"Of course, Cygnus," replied Harry.

Rising from the table both man and boy headed for the lounge and were met there by Isabel.

Once again taking seat Harry started by saying, "I hope you do not feel it too forward of me to ask if I may be allowed to court your daughter starting tomorrow afternoon. I'd like to try and get some of the awkwardness of the situation between Daphne and I out of the way before we depart for Hogwarts."

"It won't be courting, Harry," replied Cygnus. "After all, you're already betrothed. However, we're happy for you to come visiting tomorrow."

Giving a slight shrug Harry said, "I - understand its not actual courting. I just don't want to deny either of us the - experience of courting one another. Plus, it'll give us both a chance to get to know one another in a one-on-one situation. I'm hoping that we can talk things through and allow the relationship to develop that way. I think it would be nice if we started as friends first."

Nodding, Isabel said, "That's quite considerate of you, Harry. And I, for one, agree. If you had not been shunted off to your muggle relatives I daresay you and Daphne would have become much more familiar with one another before now."

Leaning forward, Cygnus said, "As we both are being a little forward amongst friends, may I enquire as to where you're currently staying? I mean to say, if it's with your muggle relatives, you may find it easier to reside here until Sunday."

Hesitating a little before replying, Harry said, "I'm staying at The Leaky Cauldron. I have no wish to return to my muggle relative's tender mercies."

Harry let a little anger colour his thoughts and must have let slip in his tone what he felt about the Dursleys because Isabel leaned forward and asked, "Harry. Are you - ill-treated there?"

Harry was a little uncomfortable with the question but replied with a frown, "What's done is done. They don't want me and I don't want them anywhere near me again."

It was clear neither Cygnus nor Isabel were happy with Harry's response but they didn't push. Instead, Cygnus said in a lighter tone, "Well, we cannot have the Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House residing at The Leaky Cauldron. As you and Daphne, as you suggested, should get to know each other before you depart on the Hogwarts Express, then I think I must insist you move in here for the next few days into one of our guest rooms. After all, you will be family soon enough."

Nodding, Harry said, "Then I thank you for the offer of your extended hospitality and heartily accept. I hope you won't mind if I move my things in tomorrow afternoon after lunch?"

"That would be fine, Harry. I'll have the elves prepare a room for you. Shall we expect you at - say - 1.00pm?"

"Thank you," said Harry. "That time suits me perfectly."

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	4. Clearing the Air

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Four - Clearing the Air**

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On returning late to The Leaky Cauldron, Harry retired directly to his room. There, he immediately drafted the first of two letters to go to Mesdames Longbottom and Bones about his experience with the Greengrasses. He kept the information light and was reticent in what he included that he felt were private between he and the Greengrasses.

He sent the first letter off to Madam Longbottom that night with Hedwig before he settled down to meditate, to sort his new memories - creating a new section dedicated to Daphne in the process - before going to sleep.

Early the next morning he wrote a similar letter to Madam Bones about the meeting and, as Hedwig had not yet returned, posted it off using one of the post office owls in Diagon Alley.

He returned to his room and packed everything up ready for his short-term move to Greengrass Estate. With his glamours in place he went downstairs to enjoy a quick breakfast, his last for the time being at The Leaky Cauldron, and headed back into the Alley proper on his way to Gringotts.

Quickly finding a teller he asked to be taken down to his heirlooms and trust fund vaults.

From the trust fund vault he refilled his coin pouch before moving on to the heirloom vault. From within he went to the section where the jewellery was stored. From memory he knew just what he was looking for, and found them as he remembered them. The family rings.

He picked out a feminine looking ring with a brilliant cut sapphire mounted in a white gold band, plus a single gold band with a smaller but similar stone mounted almost flush within it for himself. He felt the stone and white gold were fairly well matched to the eyes and hair colour of his betrothed.

Returning to the surface he visited Bloodfang to let him know he was enacting the betrothal contract between himself and Daphne Greengrass, and to ask for assistance in getting the current charms on the rings checked and or updated. Bloodfang recommended a jeweller not far down the Alley above the second hand robe shop and mentioned it was the Potter family preferred jeweller.

In the jewellers he showed the two rings and said, "I'd like to know what charms or wards, or whatever, are on these rings. Then, based on that information, what I can have placed on them if they're not already there."

Giving a nod the proprietor said, "Give me about an hour, young sir, and I'll have that information for you, alright?"

"That suits me fine, thank you," replied Harry. "I'll see you then."

Harry then left the jeweller and walked back up the Alley to Eeylop's Owl Emporium. Inside, he approached the counter and waited until he was spotted. One of the reasons he liked to come into the Alley early in the morning was because there was less traffic and other shoppers at that time.

"Good morning and welcome back, sir. How can I help you, today?" asked the shopkeeper, recognising Harry as an often repeat customer.

"Good morning," replied Harry. "I have, of late, become concerned my owl mail is being intercepted. I'm led to believe my own owl can be - warded or charmed, to ensure mail carried by her cannot be so intercepted. Is that true?"

Frowning, the shopkeeper said, "It's unheard of in this day and age for owl mail to be intercepted because the penalties for such are quite severe. Furthermore, it disgusts me that someone would do such a thing - invade someone's privacy like that.

"However, if your mail _is_ being intercepted, or you're just worried it might be, I do have an answer to your dilemma," he replied. "Is your owl used by your Head of House?"

"Yes, sir," replied Harry. After a quick look around to ensure there was no one who could listen in, he flashed his Head of House ring to the shopkeeper. "The owl belongs to the Head of House Potter," he quietly said.

Looking a little surprised at the ring on Harry's finger, the shopkeeper said, "Well, it's good to finally know your identity, Mister Potter. And I can understand why you're concerned about your mail being intercepted. And, thank you for your trust. You'll have my discretion in this matter."

The old man walked into the back of the store for a few moments before returning with a small wooden box. Placing it on the counter between them he opened it to show what was inside.

Reaching in he withdrew a small harness with tiny buckles, leather straps and a blank shield on it. "This is the deluxe model," he said. "It's a harness that affixes to the chest of your owl and identifies it as the personal owl for official correspondence of a Head of one of the Noble and Ancient Houses.

"You strap it on to your owl and then touch the crest of your ring to the shield. The shield is charmed to them automatically display the crest of the House to which it belongs - in your case, the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter - and also cause the straps to auto-size to the bird. I assure you it doesn't harm the bird in any way, and we've been using these for years.

"The harness is charmed to repel water, dust and damage. It also protects the bird from mail interception up to and including Ministry sanctioned interceptions, protects the bird from other raptors, provides some protection from spell damage and provides the bird with auto-healing of light injuries, an intent-based Notice-Me-Not charm from those who would do her harm, an energy boost similar to a Pepper Up Potion for those extra long flights, and aids in providing a Featherlight Charm to any packages over a quarter of a pound in dead weight up to twenty pounds."

"Are there any other charms that can be added you think might be useful?" asked Harry.

Shaking his head the shopkeeper replied, "No, after many years of trial and error we've found this particular combination to be the best available. The only thing more you can do is make the owl your personal familiar. That grants her, or him, a higher level of intelligence. And will mean she'll be able to better protect your mail, herself."

Nodding, Harry asked, "And how do I do that?"

The shopkeeper reached under his counter and drew forth a small fact sheet on the subject. He placed it on the counter next to the box. "You'll be surprised how many ask just that," he replied with a wry smile.

Harry grinned back and said, "Alright, then; I'll take it."

Nodding, the shopkeeper said, "That'll be fifty-seven galleons for the harness. The pamphlet is free. The harness has a lifetime guarantee to the life of the owl. If you need to replace either or both, come back and see me."

Harry paid the man after also picking up six months worth of owl treats as stock to take to Hogwarts with him.

Next, he headed for the Diagon Alley offices of the Daily Prophet and organised a year's subscription in advance to the newspaper.

Recognising that near enough to an hour had passed he returned to the Jewellers.

Bringing the rings back onto the main floor of the shop the Jeweller had them side-by-side on a black velvet cushion.

"These are beautiful rings," said the shopkeeper. "I hope you don't mind; but, I've also polished both back to looking like new."

"No, that's fine," replied Harry. "And, thank you. What can you tell me about them?"

"The ladies ring is charmed to auto-size, has an anti-theft charm, has an anti-peril feature - which monitors the wearers heart beat and adrenaline levels, so that if both suddenly shoot up it sends a vibration to a matching ring - it has the ability to be linked to that other ring to allow the wearer of it's partner to track them down by pressing on the stone and vice versa; and has a built-in potion, poison and mind-altering charm detector, which causes the ring to vibrate and stone to glow slightly when it comes into near contact with such. The ring will also provide a minimal protection from the Imperious, Confounding, Obliviation and similar Curses. But, it's not foolproof against those.

"The other ring is the matching ring and has the same charms. The only thing missing is a new charm which detects if the wearer is hit with a harmful curse or hex and alerts the other wearer the same way as the anti-peril feature," said the shopkeeper. "However, it only detects those curses and hexes that are common knowledge. Some hexes and curses, such as those that are part of family magics, it might not detect.

"Are there any other protections you think could be installed?" asked Harry. "I want my betrothed as safe as she possibly could be."

Shaking his head, the shopkeeper said, "No, but I can update the anti potion and poison detector, and harmful curses and hexes indicator, with a more modern list. I suspect they'll both be missing quite a few. Plus, you may want to be on my mailing list I maintain to advise my clients when either indicator charms are updated."

"Alright then," said Harry, coming to a decision. "Update what needs to be updated on both rings and add me and my betrothed to your mailing list."

The shopkeeper drew forth a ledger from under his counter and asked, "And what names do I include on the mailing list, young sir?"

"I'm trusting in your discretion in this, sir," said Harry before flashing his Head of House ring. "It's Harry Potter and Daphne Greengrass."

Taking a moment to glance at Harry's forehead, the shopkeeper said, "Never fear in my discretion, Mister Potter. I've never broken faith with a customer yet in over twenty years of business." Then he said with a small smile, "And might I say congratulations on your betrothal, Mister Potter. I dare say there will be many a young witch - and possibly some young wizards - who will be most distraught when it is learned you are betrothed and off the market, so to speak."

Harry harrumphed a little and said, "At least that's _something_ I won't have to worry about facing any more. And, thank you."

Nodding a little, though otherwise distracted, the shopkeeper said, "Give me - two hours? - with these rings and they'll be ready for you to collect, Mister Potter." Before he picked up the velvet cushion and turned to walk back out the back with them.

"Thank you," called Harry to the man's retreating back before he left the store once more.

Heading back to The Leaky Cauldron, Harry went straight back to his room and hoped Hedwig had returned. She had, and with a short reply from Madam Longbottom. She advised caution with dealing with the Greengrasses and said she'd meet him on the platform at Kings Cross to make sure he was still okay.

While Hedwig was resting on her perch with her little tray of owl treats and water, Harry brought the harness out of his pocket and showed it to her. "Feel like being gussied up a bit, Hed? This will identify you as the personal owl of the Head of House Potter, my owl." He grinned at her.

Hedwig looked at the harness with interest before giving a soft hoot and huff. Harry figured she approved so moved forward with it to fit it to her.

Working carefully, so as not to damage her feathers, Harry took his time in fitting the harness and making sure all the buckles were done up securely. Then he made a fist of his right hand and, holding the shield with his left hand, pressed the face of Head of House ring to the face of the shield.

The shield gave a little flash of light before the entire harness began to glow. He pulled the ring away from the shield and left go with his left hand as the entire contraption shifted until it shrank down to fit.

When it finished auto-sizing the shield gave a final flash with an embossed copy of the Potter crest appearing in the middle of it.

Stepping back, Harry said to her, "Wow, girl! You look great. It really suits you."

In response, Hedwig stood up a little straighter and gave a happy little hoot. Harry even moved her to his shoulder and then moved to stand in front of the room's only mirror so she could see it for herself.

When she saw the image she gave a couple of little huffs and nibbled on the top of Harry's ear in pleasure.

Harry chuckled and moved her back to her roost. "You'll be fighting the boy owls off now, Hed. You look gorgeous."

Next he pulled the pamphlet that described how to make Hedwig his familiar out of his pocket and read through it.

"Hmmm - this is pretty straightforward and easy," he said to her. "So, girl, how about it? Do you want to fully bond with me as my familiar?"

He received another happy hoot and huff in response.

With a grin, Harry drew his wand out of his left sleeve, held the parchment up so he could read it, and stood in front of the owl's perch. Pushing a little with his magic he made the required wand gestures and spoke the required incantations. When he was finished there was a light glow for a few moments around and between the two of them.

Stepping back and away a little, Harry closed his eyes and focussed on feeling his connection to Hedwig. It took a few minutes but he realised he could sense it quite easily. Plus, he also felt he could feel the – though, primitive - emotions coming from his avian friend. She was very happy.

Turning back to face her again, he said, "Now, according to this pamphlet, you should have a boost in your intelligence, had transferred to your mind some of my skills, be able to sense my thoughts and emotions similar to how I'm able to do the same with you, and it's extended your life expectancy somewhat. I think this will prove to be a very good thing for us both." He grinned at her.

"Now I'm pretty much all packed here, girl," he said. "I'll just give you a message to give to - Isabel to let her know I've sent you ahead of me and that I'm still on schedule to arrive at Greengrass Estate at 1.00pm, and you can be on your way."

He then sat down at the little table in the room and quickly wrote the message before using the little strap on the harness to attach it to the owl's leg. He sent her on her way before packing the last items up and stowing the portable owl perch in the lid of his trunk.

He shrunk the trunk down and pocketed it in his robes before leaving the room for the last time and heading back to the Jewellers.

As soon as he walked in the door the Jeweller shopkeeper spotted him, smiled, and reached under the counter where he was standing and brought out a small ring box of deep blue coloured velvet. Opening the box he showed Harry the two rings sitting within with the stones facing up. "All done, Mister Potter," he said.

Harry grinned at the box and said, "Thank you very, very much. How much do I owe you?"

"Just fifteen galleons, Mister Potter," he replied. "And might I say it was a pleasure to do this for you."

Harry quickly handed the man the coins and peered intently at the two rings nestled within the box. "You do very nice work, sir," he said. "I dare say that when I upgrade these in a few years to husband and wife rings I'll be back."

Nodding graciously, the shopkeeper said, "And I look forward to that happy day."

"Again, thank you," said Harry as he left the store. The ring box was now safely stored within one of the pockets of his robes.

Back at The Leaky Cauldron Harry finalised his bill for his stay and ordered a light lunch. He picked up a discarded copy of that morning's Daily Prophet and whiled away the time until he headed back to the Greengrass Estate perusing the paper.

While sitting there an owl arrived and dropped off a response letter from Madam Bones. As with Madam Longbottom she advised caution and said she'd try and meet him on the platform at Kings Cross before departure of the Hogwarts Express, just to ensure herself he was still fine.

It gave Harry a bit of a warm feeling to know that there were now people who were interested and caring enough to care about his welfare. It felt odd but nice at the same time.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At precisely 1.00pm Harry stepped through the floo into Greengrass Manor - and promptly fell on his butt again.

Climbing to his feet and grumbling to himself Harry heard the soft tinkle of feminine laughter coming from a few feet away.

Glancing up he saw Isabel waiting for him chuckling to herself. He gave a wry grin in response.

"My apologies, Harry," she chuckled. "But that, a dignified entry, does not make."

"I think it's now official," grumbled Harry, dusting himself off, "The floo system hates me."

Chuckling again, Isabel stepped forward and waved her wand over Harry. Instantly, the soot was vanished away. "Actually, there's a trick to it," she said. "I'll be happy to show you when we travel through it together to the old Midland Grand Hotel, if not before."

"Midland Grand Hotel?" asked Harry. "Why there?"

"The Midland is an old muggle hotel pretty much built almost right on top of Kings Cross station. We use a hidden floor and hidden rear entrance in the old hotel as the floo point to get onto the platform. Then it's only a short walk through the muggle side of the station to the barrier to Platform 9 ¾."

"Oh," said Harry. "I did not know that."

As they were talking Isabel was leading Harry upstairs to the second floor. She then turned to the right and entered the upstairs wing, which, Harry thought, would place him somewhere over the formal lounge.

Stopping at one of the doors to her right, and therefore at the rear of the Manor, she opened it wide and ushered Harry inside. "This will be your rooms for the next few days, Harry," she said.

Stepping in through the door, Harry saw a large four poster bed with side tables dominating the room. Off to one side he saw a small desk with a lamp and chair ready for use, and two other doors.

Isabel walked over to the one closest to the rear wall of the Manor and opened it. Inside Harry saw a neat and tidy bathroom with it's own separate bath and shower, toilet and hand basin with a mirror above it.

The other door, on the same wall as the door to the bathroom, was a small walk-in robe. With all the clothing he had, Harry didn't believe his entire wardrobe would fill even a tiny fraction of the space available.

"Now, set yourself up in here and come downstairs when you're done," Isabel instructed. "The girls and I are currently in the kitchen at the informal table in there."

"Thank you," said Harry as the older woman left.

He reached into his pocket and unshrunk his trunk placing it at the foot of 'his' bed. Opening it, he pulled out Hedwig's portable perch and set it up near the window. And refilled the owl treat and water bowls for her.

To burn off a few minutes he then unpacked his toiletries and transferred them to the bathroom.

All done, he walked out of the room and took the stairs back down to the Ground Floor, and went off in search of the kitchen. He figured it'd be near the dining room somewhere; and probably at the rear of the house.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After leaving his room upstairs, Harry headed straight back downstairs and headed for the formal dining room. From there he heard the sounds of voices coming through another door so moved to that one and pushed the door open. He was greeted by a second, smaller dining room with the opposite wall wide open and showing a large kitchen.

Sitting at the table were Isabel, Daphne and Astoria.

As soon as Harry stuck his head through the door, Astoria spotted him. With a cry of "_Harry!_" she launched herself off the chair, covered the intervening few feet at a run and tackle-hugged him. "Welcome back!" she exclaimed.

With a grin, Harry hugged her back and said, "Thank you, Astoria. It's good to be back."

She then let him go, grabbed him by his hand and dragged him over to the table. Pulling a chair out for him next to her own she commanded, "Sit!"

With a chuckle, Harry sat. He was sitting opposite Daphne, who looked back with a wary half-stare.

Isabel spoke up and said, "We were just discussing plans for the next few days, Harry; and need your input."

"Ummm - alright?" replied Harry.

"Have you got all your supplies for Hogwarts yet?" she asked.

"Yes, Ma' - errr - Isabel. I think I'm right to go," he replied. "Leastwise, there was nothing on the list I received that I've not yet purchased and packed ready to go."

"What about the essentials that aren't listed? Toiletries; non-school uniform clothing for the weekends; extra quills, inks and parchment; owl treats for your owl; stuff like that?"

"Yeah, I think so," said Harry. "I can't think of anything else I might need."

Nodding, she said, "Well, Daphne feels she might need a few extra supplies so we were thinking of ducking over to Diagon Alley later this afternoon to allow the purchase of those items. You're welcome to come along, if you like. But, you don't have to if you don't want to."

"No, I've got nothing better to do," he said. "Maybe I'll just come along and help carry bags, or something."

Smiling, she said, "There's no need for someone to carry bags in the wizarding world, Harry. That's what shrinking charms and pockets are for. However, we plan to head into the muggle world tomorrow afternoon. And, as we cannot shrink bags there, there's always a need for bag carriers until we can duck into a Ladies somewhere to shrink them."

"Then I can always just provide company," said Harry with a bit of a shrug. "That is, if no one minds..."

"Of course not," replied Astoria. "Besides, we might see some of my friends there. They'll be _ever so_ jealous if they see me with you."

Harry smiled at the chipper young girl before turning to Daphne. "And what about you, Daphne? Do you mind me joining you on your trip to Diagon Alley?"

With a half-hearted huff the girl replied, "No." Before she straightened up a bit and said, "But, be warned, I may be meeting my closest friend, Tracy Davis, there. She'll be in our year at Hogwarts and you might not choose to be around us when we - girl-talk."

"That's okay," Harry replied with a shrug. "I can make myself scarce then, if you need me to. You need your friends and your secrets and I can respect that."

That received Harry another long look from the girl and a knowing smile from his future mother-in-law.

With another huff, Daphne half growled at him, "You cannot be that perfect; no one can. You're putting on an act; I can feel it."

With a sigh, Harry said, "My upbringing was not the stuff of those silly books supposedly about my childhood. You know the ones, 'Harry Potter and the Naughty Nundu', for example?"

When the girl nodded back, though reluctantly, he continued in a somewhat sad voice, "When I was growing up with the Dursleys. I was told all sorts of lies about who I was. I was denied having any friends of my own. I was treated like a slave while my fat whale of a cousin was treated like a prince in front of me. One of the things I promised myself, during that time, was never to even _think_ about trying to control anyone else if I was ever able to escape that life; through word, deed or intent. I just _will not_ do it.

"When I finally entered the wizarding world - or re-entered - one of the first things I discovered is that I'm contractually betrothed to a girl I'd never met, and had no idea even _existed_ until the same moment. It took me quite some time to contain my anger and think of the situation in a logical manner. Of course, one of the first - revelations - of that introspective thought process was that the girl, though she may have known of me and the contract for some time, was just as trapped by it as I was. And it would be petty and unjust of me to hold her accountable for it.

"Furthermore, because the contract would trap her in one part of her life to be bound to me as my wife and mate, it - behoved me - to ensure that all other aspects of her life were given as much freedom as possible. This, I have vowed to do.

"And that's why you won't hear me trying to place any controls on your life. I will do my best not to gainsay you. I will do my best to, not only allow you to live your life, but assist you in living it as best I can. I'm willing, and I daresay want to, share my life with you. I hope you're willing to do the same with me."

After he'd finished his clearly emotional little speech, the table sat in silence for a few moments.

"_Damn_, Potter," said Daphne in a small voice. "_Why_ do you have to be so _bloody_ noble? Why do you have to be so _bloody_ perfect?"

"Mind your language, Daphne," said her mother, though there was no heat in the words. It was almost as if she was just going through the motions of saying them.

"I don't know about being noble," replied Harry with a shrug. "I just know how I want others to behave concerning me, and try and behave like that towards others. Besides, I know I'm not perfect."

Hesitating a bit, he said, "When I was little I received a major - whack - to the side of my head. I also used to have a lot of trouble staying focussed on whatever it was I was doing at the time. Ever since the whack I've had difficulty maintaining control over my anger.

"I told a teacher about my trouble with both focussing and anger management and he recommended I learn how to meditate. He said that meditation, for some people, allowed them to better control their emotions, aided them in focussing their thoughts, and could also improve their memory retention.

"So, I went to the school library - and, later, the public library - and read through books on the subject. That led me into reading other books on controlling your own mind. All muggle techniques. And through those books I learned I have what is called an eidetic memory. Part of the problem I had was that I could remember _everything_. And that those memories were completely jumbled up and were forcibly intruding - or leaking - onto my consciousness.

"It took some time, but I was able to slowly learn how to meditate. After reaching that state I then attempted to build what Plato referred to as a 'mind palace'. That's something orators of the day would use to organise their thoughts before a major speech. However, instead of being able to build a mind palace such as Plato described, I found myself able to build a palace within my mind that was vividly detailed.

"I was then able to sort through my memories, which had appeared in my mind as books, and sort them into library shelves within that palace. It took me many, many months to reach that stage. I also found that the act of doing that helped me in being able to stop the memory intrusions, allowed me to discover the true power of having an eidetic memory, and aided me in controlling my temper.

"Since the day I first started researching meditation I've always been on the lookout for books on controlling your own mind. So, when I first entered the wizarding world almost six weeks ago; and after going to the bank and finding out I had plenty of money available to me, I stopped in at Flourish and Blotts to see if the magical world had similar books. Of course, they do. And I started with a book called '_Introduction to Mind Magicks_'. From that I read about Occlumency.

"That led me to a self-study book on Occlumency and Legilimency. From that I learned that I was so successful at meditation and building my mind palace, because I was a wizard; and that such things come easier to those such as us. I also learned I could isolate that part in my mind where my anger bubbles away - I see it now as a seething giant cauldron, by the way - and I was able to wall it off separating it from the 'core' me, and put some basic controls on it.

"Now I can almost consciously monitor the condition of the cauldron and have a way to - calm the contents of it back down. But it's an ongoing process and I have to constantly set aside time to ensure that the cauldron doesn't overflow; that my anger does not get the better of me.

"So, I'm sorry to say, I'm going to come across as being quite - emotionless - when I should be showing signs of strong emotion. Some of the kids where I went to school in the muggle world thought I was turning into a robot; an android; something other than human. They picked on me, somewhat, for it.

"However, I'm not always successful. There has been the rare time where my emotions have nearly gotten the better of me. At those times I get a splitting headache and feel as if I'm being suffocated. But - I've never become violent with anyone during those times. I just tend to rant and rave for a while, until I can get my anger back into check - and calm that cauldron down again."

"Secondly, people who lie to me _really_ upset me. When I was growing up my aunt and uncle kept telling me I was a worthless freak and that I should thank my lucky stars they were kind enough to give me a place to live; that my drunken bum of a father got he and my - whore - of a mother killed in a car crash. The same car crash they said..." he lifted his fringe to indicate the scar on his forehead, "...gave me this scar."

"During that time, and before I was able to organise my memories, I used to get these - flashbacks - of a time when I was a baby. A time when I knew I was loved by adults; a man who had similar hair to my own who wore aviator style glasses, a woman I instinctively knew to be my mother who had long red hair and bright green eyes, plus others.

"Before I was able to sort these memories, because of what my relatives told me, I thought they were just daydreams of what I wished my life was like. That they were, in effect, lies I was telling myself.

"However, after I _was_ able to sort my memories, I learned it was my _relatives_ that had lied to me, and not the other way around. It took me a _long_ time to reach that conclusion because I just did not want to believe it to be true. I didn't want to believe that people, my own relatives no less, could be so _cruel_.

"My letter from Hogwarts I received on 26th July was the final conclusive proof. It was also the day I decided to - vacate - that house and find the wizarding world. My memories led me to Charing Cross Road and The Leaky Cauldron. It was the best decision I ever made."

When he'd finished, Harry sighed in some measure of self-pity. "So, you see, I'm _far_ from perfect," he said. "I just do my best with what I have and hope it's enough."

Harry didn't even notice that, while he was talking - reminiscing - a cup of tea appeared on the table in front of him. Nor, that he'd been playing with it.

When he'd concluded he realised he'd divulged more than he had planned to. But that, in doing so, he felt a sense of release.

Looking up he saw Daphne looking back with an expression of - pity and sorrow. She reached out with her right hand and grasped his left in a sign of solidarity.

Astoria hoped off her own chair, slid it closer to his, and climbed back on it before wrapping her arms around him from the side. She just silently hugged him.

Taking a deep breath Isabel said, "Well - I think we can honestly say we weren't expecting to hear _that_."

Turning to look more fully at Harry, she said, "Thank you for sharing that with us, Harry. Clearly, it was difficult for you to do so. But, just as clearly, you needed to share it with _some_one. I'm glad you felt comfortable enough to share it with us."

"I'm sorry, Harry," said Daphne, softly. "I've been behaving like such a beast to you and you've already had to endure so much."

Giving a bit of a sheepish shrug in response, Harry replied, "Like I said, I understand why you feel the way you do. I don't blame you for it."

"No, but I do," she said more firmly. "I now better understand this betrothal contract wasn't any more your fault as it was mine. I promise not to be angry with you over it from now on."

"Thank you," Harry said softly.

"And now I think it's time we all got some fresh air by making our way to Diagon Alley," said Isabel in a tone trying to lighten the mood. "I don't know about you, but shopping always makes me feel better."

And the four of them rose from the table and organised themselves for a trip to the Alley.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	5. Eidetic Memory

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Five – Eidetic History**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Before stepping into the fireplace at Greengrass Estate, Isabel told Harry what she felt was the secret to travelling by floo and landing without falling over at the other end.

"You need to wait for the spinning to stop once you arrive in the fireplace at the other end," she instructed. "Wait about a full second, and then step out with your right foot slightly off to the right to counteract the remaining effect of the spin. And then step out with the left foot right in front."

"Harry nodded and said, "Alright then. I'll give it a go."

Following as instructed, he managed to only stagger slightly when he exited the floo in The Leaky Cauldron, and immediately stepped away to allow Isabel to step through.

"How'd you do?" asked Isabel after she gracefully stepped through.

"Well, I didn't fall on my butt, this time," grinned Harry. "I only staggered a little bit. I think I now know how to fix that."

She gave a little smile and nod while drawing her wand and vanishing the soot off the clothes of all four of them. "Excellent. We'll have you landing with a measure of grace by the time you leave on Sunday morning."

She then led their small party out into the Alley proper. "Where to first, Daphne?" she asked the girl.

"I said I'd check Fortescue's first to see if Tracey beat us here. If not, I told her to meet us at Flourish & Blotts."

"Then lead the way, dear," her mother said with a gesture.

Following behind with Isabel, Harry was feeling at peace. The talk, earlier, really did make him feel better about things. And, he was happy just to spend time with the Greengrass ladies.

By the time he and Isabel reached Fortescue's, Daphne was hugging another girl with similar length but brown hair. Astoria was practically hopping from foot to foot in excitement looking like she wanted to just run up and down the Alley in delight.

When the two girls parted, Daphne glanced at Tracey before saying in a quiet voice to the other girl, "Remember how I told you I found out I was betrothed to Harry Potter?"

"Yes," replied Tracey with a giggle, "Is he as horrid as you thought he'd be?"

With a blush of embarrassment, Daphne indicated Harry and said, "Trace, this is Harry Potter. And, no, he's really not."

Tracey stared him up and down for a bit before she said, "Well, you _do_ look a little like all the books say you do. Different glasses, though. And you're a bit scrawnier than I'd expect."

"_Tracey_!" gasped Daphne.

Blushing a little, and also a little annoyed, Harry replied, "Well, those books are ninety-nine percent lies. And I know for a fact they don't know the real me."

"Hmm..." Tracey mused, standing a little straighter. "Well, you better be good to my friend, or you'll have _me_ to answer to."

"I assure you, Lady Tracey, I will both protect her and cherish her; you have my word," he replied.

Giving Harry another once over, the brunette turned back to her friend and said, "He'll do."

"_Tracey_!" whined Daphne. "You're _embarrassing_ me!"

"Alright, girls," said Isabel stepping forward. "We came here to do some shopping; so, let's get to it, shall we?"

What followed was Daphne and Tracey leading them from store to store while they walked whispering rapid fire to each other and glancing back at Harry. In response, Harry would occasionally make faces back or give an air of indifference to their antics.

Isabel, while also keeping an eye on all four children, seemed to be quite amused at the byplay between the three eleven year olds. Harry had the impression she was quite happy with what was going on.

While in Flourish & Blotts, Daphne suggested to Harry he purchase a book on potion reaction tables that would come in handy for that class, but wasn't included on the book list. And, when he indicated which books he had on that subject, she indicated a book on the history of the Noble Houses to augment the ones he already had. He bought both and thanked her for the suggestions.

In Madam Malkin's the girls pushed him into the 'male' side of the store, while they blushed and giggled and moved across into the 'female' side. Harry didn't want to know what they were shopping for, but had his suspicions.

While waiting, he asked about mail ordering services the store provided, and was placed on their list of names of people who wanted to receive information of upcoming fashions. After a slight hesitation he asked to put Daphne's name on the same list for female fashions.

Not long afterwards, after they'd left the store, Harry suggested to Daphne she invite Tracey to join them back at the Estate for a little while after shopping. There was something he thought she'd want to see.

"What are you up to, Harry?" she asked.

"It's a surprise," he calmly replied.

When she moved off to again join the other girl in walking and whispering to each other, Harry walked beside Isabel and said, "I hope you don't mind; but, I asked Daphne to invite Tracey back to the Estate for a short while."

"Oh?" she asked. "And why did you do that?"

"Because I think there's something she'd like to see. But, I have to talk to Cygnus about it first," he replied.

Thinking for a few moments while she watched him, she said, "If it's what I think it is, then I'd say that would be a very nice thing to do. Cygnus should be in his study by the time we return."

"Thank you, Isabel," he gratefully said.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When they stepped back through the floo into Greengrass Estate, the two oldest girls dashed up to Daphne's room while Astoria went to her own. Isabel led Harry through to Cygnus's study.

Knocking on the opened door to the study, Isabel said, "My Lord, Mister Potter would like a word, if he may."

"Oh?" replied Cygnus from where he was sitting behind a large ornate desk, surprised by the formal announcement of his wife. "Then, do come in, Mister Potter. And how may I help you?"

Harry stepped into the study and approached the desk. Steeling himself a little he gave a little bow and said, "Lord Greengrass, it has come to my attention, as per the old ways, it is customary for the prospective groom of a betrothal contract to present a suitable ring to his prospective bride. I come before you asking to present such a ring to Lady Daphne in recognition of our betrothal."

Before Harry had even finished speaking Cygnus was already grinning from ear to ear. As he'd finished, Cygnus pushed himself back from his desk, held out his hand palm up, and said, "Well, let's see it, then."

Harry drew the box forth from within his robes and, stepping forward, placed the box in the older man's hand.

Cygnus opened the box, looked inside, and gave a low whistle in response.

Looking back up at Harry he offered the box back and said, "Very nice, Mister Potter. As per the old ways, I deem it worthy to grace the finger of my daughter's hand."

Then, relaxing a fair bit, he asked with a grin, "When do you want to present it to her?"

Nervously, Harry replied, "I thought she might like Tracey here when I presented it to her. So, I hope you don't mind if we do it now and get it over with?"

Chuckling, Cygnus replied, "That sounds like a nice idea. Allow me to summon the family." Turning his head slightly to the right he summoned one of their house elves, "Tinky."

With a pop the little being appeared alongside him and asked, "What can Tinky be doing for Master?"

"Can you inform my wife, both daughters, and Daphne's friend Tracey to join us here, in the study, please?"

"Yes, Master!" it said before disappearing with another pop.

Harry had met a house elf for the first time when he visited the Longbottoms; and was, at first, surprised by their devotion. The next day he had read a bit on the small beings and their place in the wizarding world. Now, he was accustomed to them, but vowed to treat them as honoured members of family; unlike how he heard some families treated them.

Moments later, Isabel entered the room, followed by the sounds of running feet before Astoria walked in pretending she hadn't just been running all the way to the door before walking in. Daphne and Tracey joined them less than a minute later. The three girls faces showed questioning looks while Isabel wore a slightly smug and knowing expression.

"Daphne, come forward, please," instructed a lightly grinning Cygnus.

With a curious expression she stepped up near Harry.

"The floor is yours, Mister Potter," said Cygnus.

With a nervous sub-vocalised sigh, Harry turned to Daphne and said, "Lady Daphne, it has come to my attention, as per the old ways, it is customary for the prospective groom of a betrothal contract to present a suitable ring to his prospective bride." He then dropped to one knee and offered the ring box to Daphne on the palm of his left hand, opening the lid with his right as he did so.

Daphne's face morphed into one of complete shock while Harry heard a muffled squeal from one of the girls standing apart. He didn't know which one but didn't care, focussed as he was on Daphne's face.

Continuing, he said, "Please accept this ring as recognition of our betrothal; and do me the honour of wearing it, always."

With the fingers of one hand covering her gaping mouth, Daphne reached out a shaking hand and lightly brushed both rings with her fingers. Pulling her hand back she looked into Harry's eye and quickly nodded her head. Harry hoped she wasn't going to suddenly burst into tears. He didn't know what he'd do, then.

Gently, Harry pulled the box back towards him and withdrew the ladies ring with the fingers of his right hand. Almost subconsciously he snapped the lid of the box shut again with his left hand and repocketed it. He then reached back forward with his left hand and took Daphne's left hand by a light grasp pulling it up and forward.

Changing his grip slightly on the ring, he gently slid the ring onto her left hand ring finger and pushed it right back until it rested almost against the webbing. The ring gave a slight flash and resized itself to her finger.

Then he reached back into his pocket and drew forth the box again, reopening it.

"This ring is the partner to yours. With it, I signify to all that I am betrothed to you. I ask that you do me the honour of placing it on _my_ ring finger."

Daphne looked at him for a few moments before she reached in and drew the ring from the box. As soon as it cleared the box Harry pulled it away and resnapped the box lid shut, then switched it to his right hand before dropping it into a pocket.

At the same time he offered his left hand to Daphne, palm down, and waited for her to take it.

Gently, almost slowly, Daphne altered her grip on the gold band before taking Harry's offered hand. He held his fingers a little splayed and slightly stiff to allow her to slide the ring onto his ring finger. She, too, slid the ring right back almost to the webbing between his fingers. As soon as she released it, Harry saw the flash and felt the slight warmth as it resized to fit comfortably.

Then he stood up, took her left hand by the fingers, palm down, and drew her hand up as he leaned forward and gave the back of her knuckles a light kiss. Standing up straight again he simply said, "Thank you."

Surprising Harry, she lunged forward and grabbed him by each side of the head, half yanked him forward and firmly planted a chaste kiss on his lips. Letting go of his face and backing off a little she blushed, then proceeded to attempt to hug the stuffing out of him for a few moments. Just as suddenly she let him go and stood back. Her expression gave Harry the impression she was shocked by what she'd just done.

"Tinky," he heard Cygnus call. "Six champagne flutes and a bottle of light champagne, please. The good stuff."

That broke the spell on the young couple as the other three ladies all came forward with squeals to see the ring on Daphne's hand. Harry stepped back and turned towards her father, not a little in shock, himself.

Cygnus walked around his desk with a wide grin on his face and offered his hand to Harry to shake, who took it with gratitude. "Congratulations, my boy. That was very well done!"

The next thing Harry knew, he was wrapped in a hug by Isabel. "You did that really well, Harry. Clearly, you've been studying the old ways."

With a sheepish grin as the woman backed off again, he said, "Yeah, I read a book on wizarding traditions, and another on the Ancient Houses. Between them, I learned what I needed to do and how to do it."

"An example of that perfect memory of yours, no doubt," she said, backing away.

Harry was next grapple-hugged by the youngest Greengrass who made a "Squeee!" sound as she did. She then stood up straight and planted a kiss on his cheek before backing off. "You're going to make it hard for any suitors for me to measure up to _your_ standard, you know," she mock-scolded him.

Harry grinned at her and said, "They'd have to _at least_ measure up to my standard to be considered even close to be worthy of _you_, my fair maiden."

After a hesitant look of surprise at Harry she turned to her father and said, "Ooooh! He did it _again_!"

That earned Harry another grapple-hug by the younger girl before she suddenly released him and went back for another look at Daphne's ring.

Cygnus gave a little chuckle before he started handing out partially full champagne flutes to everyone.

After a toast to the couple Cygnus chivvied the ladies out of the room and offered Harry a seat at the occasional table in the other half of the room. Cygnus took the other one. Both were still sipping at their champagnes.

"It's my understanding the Potter's were in the habit of charming their betrothal rings beyond the standard auto-resizing and anti-theft charms. Is it the same with your two?" asked Cygnus.

Harry nodded and said, "Besides those, both rings have poison and harmful potion detectors that will cause the stones to glow on both rings, detection charms against the wearer being hit with curses and jinxes that will cause both rings to vibrate, as well as some small level of protection against both, there's also a peril detector that monitors the wearer's heartbeat and adrenaline levels - if either or both suddenly spike it'll be detected - and the rings will intermittently vibrate, and both rings provide some level of detection and counter against mind altering curses such as the Imperious, Confounding and Obliviation Curses, and cause both rings to double tap vibrate. Finally, there's a tracking charm on both rings that allows the other to track and find the partner. It's not long distance, but it's good enough for Hogwarts.

"If I thought there was any other protective charms I could think of to add to the rings I'd have them installed in a heartbeat. I'm still wondering if there could be a minimal Notice-Me-Not charm that was intent based that could be added, but the jeweller said he was still working on one that would be effective."

"And, why present the rings now?" asked Cygnus. "Though, I suspect I know why, I'd like you to confirm it for me."

"It's a combination of what I've read, what I've heard and what I suspect from my gut feelings," replied Harry. "First, our betrothal will not remain secret for long. I'm the supposed Boy-Who-Lived, so I'm considered 'newsworthy' for that alone. I'm the new Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House - and, apparently, the Heir Presumptive to another; the Blacks - and now betrothed to the Heiress of a third. Apparently just two of those three is very rare and always makes the front page of the wizarding world's newspapers when it's discovered. All three is unheard of.

"The Potters are considered a 'Light' House while the Greengrasses are, erroneously in my opinion, considered 'Grey' if not 'Dark'. So, there's obviously going to be quite a few people unhappy to learn of such a relationship between our two Houses. Such an alliance will, no doubt, upset the balances of power in everything from the Wizengamot down.

"I've learned there are quite a few people from all levels of society who would otherwise actively work towards snagging the supposed Boy-Who-Lived in an informal alliance, if not locked into a marriage contract with a daughter - or even a son - of their House. The Jeweller even said, and I quote, 'I dare say there will be many a young witch - and possibly some young wizards - who will be most distraught when it is learned you are betrothed and off the market, so to speak'.

"And, finally, neither of us are stupid enough _not_ to believe there are Voldemort sympathisers who remain at-large who would like nothing better than to harm me, in any way, in the name of their master. Daphne is about to become too big and too easy a target, even though Hogwarts is supposedly the safest place in Britain, and it behoves me to protect her. I just hope I can.

"Is that how you saw it, Sir?" Harry finally asked.

With a small snort in response Cygnus replied, "Actually, your response was even more than my own suspicions. Plus, you've given me a few things to think about."

Harry allowed the man his thoughts while he sat there thinking about how his life had changed so much over the past month and a half. He'd gone from being a poor boy who was forced to be the slave of a middle class British muggle family and forced to bed in a cupboard under the stairs; to the Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House, heir to another, betrothed to the heiress of a third, destined to become a Lord in his own right, and one of the richest people in Britain, muggle _or_ magical.

Interrupting his thoughts, Cygnus said, "There's something you said I hope you could clarify for me."

Harry nodded and said, "If I can, of course."

"You said you were the Heir Presumptive of the House of Black. It is my understanding that position resides with young Draco Malfoy of the Magical House of Malfoy. His mother, Narcissa, is a daughter of the Blacks."

Harry frowned and said, "From what I understand the Heirship comes to me through two paths. Firstly, I'm the great grandson of Dorea Potter nee Black, who was the youngest sister of Pollux Black, the great grandfather of Scion Malfoy. That means we're equally positioned to become the next Lord Black. And it makes us cousins, of sorts.

"Secondly, the goblins informed me my godfather, Sirius Orion Black, named me as his Heir sometime during late 1980 or early 1981. And Sirius Black, according to the goblins, is the rightful Lord Black - irrespective of his current accommodations within Azkaban - since the passing of his grandfather, Arcturus Black, a few months ago."

Frowning, Cygnus said, "_That_ should not be possible. Being convicted and sentenced to Azkaban of a crime that would see him spend the rest of his life behind bars, should see him magically stripped of any claim to the Lordship and it passed on to the next in succession. That would be you. And would mean you would also now be the Head of House Black."

"And that's what's got me confused," said Harry. "When I raised that exact point with Bloodfang, the Potter Account Keeper, he basically stared right at me and said in a very deliberate manner, 'Sirius Orion Black inherited the title of Lord Black on the death of his grandfather on the 31st of March, this year. He is currently _residing_ in Azkaban. And, he is currently the Lord Apparent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I want to be very clear with my words here, Mister Potter; and hope you understand what I am telling you.'.

"I have this sneaking suspicion - no, I'm sure of it - he was trying to tell me something important, and I'm not knowledgeable enough of the wizarding world to understand what he was trying to tell me. When I tried to get him to clarify his remark, he clammed up and said he was bound by both treaty and client confidentiality not to say any more. I think he was also somewhat disappointed in me that I had to ask."

Frowning still, Cygnus said, "Leave it with me. I'll research the Wizengamot and Ministry records to try and find out why magic still recognises him as Lord Apparent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. It's the only reason why the _goblins_ would still recognise him as such."

"Might I also suggest raising the matter with Madam Bones?" asked Harry. "I formally re-established the long-term alliance between House Potter and House Bones a couple days ago. With her as both Regent Bones on behalf of her niece, Susan, and Head of the DMLE, channels for information may become more open to you."

Cygnus smiled back and said, "I do believe you are far more Slytherin than you believe, Harry. I fear it will be a great loss to my old House if you're sorted into another."

With a matching grin of his own, Harry replied, "Perhaps. But, how much Slytherin of me would it be if I managed to get myself sorted into another House?"

Cygnus burst into laughter. "I _so_ look forward to the day you take seat in the Wizengamot, Harry."

By the time a house elf popped in to inform them dinner was ready in the informal dining area, both Heads felt they had gone a long way towards establishing a long term friendship on top of the formal alliance. It never really occurred to Cygnus that he was creating such a friendship with an eleven year old.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During dinner, where Tracey had asked for and received permission to join them from her father via floo, Harry found himself sitting next to Daphne while Tracey and Astoria sat opposite. Cygnus and Isabel sat at either end of the table.

Throughout the courses, Tracey bombarded him near mercilessly about his life to that point. Harry only said he was raised in the muggle world and gave some information about his experiences living as a muggle. She also asked him why he'd decided to live for the last six weeks at The Leaky Cauldron. And Harry said it was so he had ready access to material he could source to learn about life, and his place in it, in the wizarding world.

He explained about his first day back in the wizarding world from hopping off the Underground and walking into The Leaky Cauldron, to visiting Gringotts, learning of his heritage and the betrothal contract, generalisations of his letters from his parents, his experiences talking with the various shopkeepers, why he'd chosen to use an alias, and how he felt about everything.

In response, Harry asked questions about growing up in the wizarding world, what kids did for fun, asked about the rules governing underage magic, wondered why he hadn't received a howler from that department when he was practicing the minor charms and cantrips he was using to conceal his identity - and was told it was because Diagon Alley couldn't be monitored because there was too much magic in that small an area, and that the same restrictions couldn't be applied to homes as heavily warded as the Greengrass Estate, asked about other methods of travel within the wizarding world besides floo travel; and generally gave as good as he got.

As dessert was being served Tracey flat-out asked him, to the shock of the Greengrasses, if he knew what really happened on the night of 31st October 1981.

So, Harry, as emotionlessly as possible, gave a full accounting of what he knew happened and when.

"But, that's not what the books say!" exclaimed Tracey.

Harry gave a little snort of amusement and said, "I want you to think about this, for a minute or two. The only people present on that night were: James and Lily Potter, me, Voldemort,..." and heard a few gasps of shock at his casual mention of the name, but he ignored it," ... and apparently Sirius Black - though I did not really see him. Of those people, only Sirius Black and I lived through the experience. And Black was apparently sent directly to Azkaban. That leaves only me.

"And, I can assure you, _nobody_ has approached me to ask what happened on that night until _you_ just did. That being the case, just where did all those writers get their information on which to base their books?"

The entire table stopped to think about that for a little while.

"But, how do you remember so much?" she asked.

"As I explained to Isabel, Daphne and Astoria this afternoon, I have a very good memory, honed by meditation, and built upon by Occlumency. I don't want it bandied about..." he said, looking very directly at Tracey, "... but I have what's called an eidetic memory; perfect recall. I remember _everything_ that's happened in my life excluding those periods when I was asleep or unconscious." With a bit of a snort he said, "I even have what I feel are memories from when I was in the womb, and of my own birth." With a bit of a shudder he said, "That particular memory I have stored back in the recesses of my mind and locked away in a mental safe."

"Sweet Merlin!" exclaimed Cygnus. Sitting forward, he asked, "Do you remember me?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "You visited my Mum and me in the hospital on what I think was the day after I was born. You came in with Isabel..." he said indicating the lady at the other end of the table, "... and she was carrying a bundle of green blankets with silver trim in her left arm, from which I saw a small baby's face with a dusting of fine blonde hair."

He grinned at Daphne and said, "You were a very cute baby."

Daphne just stared back in shock.

Turning back to Cygnus, he said, "You leaned over me and said to my Mum that I had her eyes. I remember reaching out and grabbing you by a fistful of your goatee and giving it a bit of a yank." Laughing, he continued, "The look on your face when I did that still makes me laugh."

Isabel burst into laughter and said, "Yes, and he immediately shaved it off that night, and hasn't had one since."

Still in shock but also showing signs of amusement, Cygnus said, "It bloody hurt!" Leaning back he looked directly at Harry and said, "That's an incredible ability, Harry. And, I think it's wise of you not to want it spread about that you have it."

Nodding, Harry said, "I think I have enough on my plate to deal with as the so-called Boy-Who-Lived. I don't want to also be known as the Boy-Who-Remembers-Everything. Besides, once some of the teachers at my old muggle school found out I had perfect recall, their attitudes towards me changed. If I didn't get perfect marks on exams that basically parroted information we already knew, they kind of scolded me and said they were disappointed. No one can be perfect all the time, and I was trying to hide my ability."

"You would also have lots of kids coming to you for the answers to any questions on their school work they had," said Daphne.

"I did," nodded Harry. "It didn't take me long to realise I could earn a few pounds - muggle currency - by offering my services for a fee. I don't know if it's right to tell you, but I used to have a small network of - agents - who would act as my intermediaries in selling my services to the rest of the student population. I used to charge a fee based on the student's year for my services in writing their assignments for them. It also used to humour me that one of my biggest customers was my own cousin, Dudley.

"My agents would come to me in my space in the library, which everyone knew I had basically claimed as my own, with information on what the assignment was supposed to be about, and the fee charged. I'd complete the assignment in the kid's name and the agent would take it back to the student. For their services as go-between I paid the agent a ten percent commission.

"The agents had two mandatory rules: Don't tell anyone my identity, and never try to rip me off. I used to use others to test the honesty of the agents. It took me only having to sack two of them for the others to know I found out who was ripping me off pretty quickly. During the whole time I was doing that, only two of my agents were ever busted by the teachers, and neither of them ratted me out. And none of the teachers ever figured out I was the one doing the assignments.

"It was the money I raised doing that for the last couple years of my muggle schooling that I used to buy school supplies for myself and, ultimately, used to get myself on public transport from my relatives' house to The Leaky Cauldron on that first day."

By the time Harry finished his short tale of questionable legal acts in heading his own minor crime syndicate, Cygnus was roaring with laughter.

"Harry James Potter!" he crowed. "_Head _of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter; Secretly _Head_ of a Petty Criminal Organisation!" And started roaring with laughter again.

"Well, I wasn't actually doing anything _illegal_," Harry said a bit sheepishly. "What I would do was always write using a yellow legal pad for the paper and in green ink. Each page was also stamped with the notation 'Sample Only' top and bottom. If it ever did end up getting back to me I knew I could always claim I was only writing a sample assignment for the student. How was I to know they'd rewrite it in their own hand on their own paper and submit it under their own name? I could have even claimed the student plagiarised me. Besides, who could ever really believe that a third or fourth grade student was writing top line assignments for a sixth grade student? Especially one who, through his own grades, was a pretty poor student."

Cygnus was still laughing. He even had tears in his eyes.

"Are you - are you _sure_ you're not bound for Slytherin?" he chuckle asked.

"Nah!" replied a grinning Harry. "Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. Then I'll work at secretly taking over the school hidden within the House of the Ravens or Badgers using cunning and guile. No one will _ever_ suspect me. Mwa ha ha."

That just set Cygnus off again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After dinner, Tracey headed for home while Astoria and Daphne headed upstairs to their rooms. Before he got a chance to leave, Isabel asked him to remain at the table for a few minutes.

Cygnus, not know what was going on, looked at his wife with a curious expression.

Isabel sat next to Harry and said, "Harry, I know you don't want to go over all that information you provided the girls and I this afternoon, but I think Cygnus needs to hear it for himself."

Harry just nodded back with a bit if a sheepish expression.

"Have you ever heard of a pensieve, Harry?" she asked.

Frowning, Harry replied, "No, sorry; what's a pensieve?"

"A pensieve is a magical device that allows a person to share their memories with another. They can do everything from giving the person a full, immersive experience of the memory, to just displaying the memory like a ghostly form above the surface of the pensieve," she explained.

"Okay," said Harry. "I guess I can understand what you mean."

"Good," she said. "Because, what I want to do is show Cygnus my memories of what you told us this afternoon in our family pensieve. Would it be okay with you if I did that?"

"Yeah, that'd be alright," said Harry. "I guess it would save me from having to tell it all again, I suppose."

"Yes; my thoughts, exactly," she said.

"I - don't have to be here for it, do I?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "I just thought it would be polite to ask you for your permission for me to do so first. After all, it's your information to share."

"Thank you," said Harry. "In that case, I don't have a problem with it."

Getting up from the table, he said, "While you're doing that I need to meditate for a while. I'll be in the guest room if you need me."

Nodding, she said, "Thank you, Harry; and good night."

"Good night, Harry," said Cygnus.

"Good night!" Harry called back over his shoulder as he walked out.

Turning back to look at his wife, Cygnus asked, "So, in the study?"

Rising back up from her chair, Isabel said, "In the study." And led her husband from the room.

After the pensieve was brought out from it's custom-made draw in the study bookcases, Cygnus placed it carefully on the corner of his desk.

Isabel touched her wand tip to her temple, frowned a bit, and slowly drew the tip away from where it touched her skin. As she did so, a gossamer-like glowing mass of something resembling partway between cotton wool and string came with it.

She gently transferred it into the liquid kept within the birdbath-shaped stone pensieve and indicated to her husband to join her.

Together, they dropped into the pensieve to watch the memory Isabel had just transferred there.

When they came back out some time later, Cygnus walked around and plonked himself onto his office chair. Frowning, he asked, "He's slowly opening up to us about his life with his relatives, isn't he?"

Nodding, Isabel replied, "Yes. But he's going to need to do it at his own pace. I don't think he consciously thought to reveal as much to us as he did this afternoon. And I think he only said what he said to put Daphne more at ease."

"Those were my thoughts as well," said Cygnus. Leaning forward again, he said, "And speaking about what he reveals, I think I should show you the memory of what we discussed in here after you ladies left that little ring ceremony he performed."

"You're not worried he'd be upset you're sharing it with me?" she asked.

"No, I doubt much gets past our young Mister Potter," he replied. "I daresay he expects me to share it with you."

Then Cygnus used his own wand to extract a memory and allowed it to drop into the bowl of the pensieve. Once it was in, they both dropped their faces in after it.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

While the Greengrass parents were downstairs in the study using the pensieve, Harry was in his room getting ready for bed and to meditate.

He first checked to ensure Hedwig was comfortable on her perch, and that the window was a little open for her to leave during the night and hunt. He made sure she had owl treats and replaced her water. And checked to see if she was suffering any from her new harness.

When he was satisfied he returned to his trunk and brought out his pyjamas, laying them on the bed. And headed into the bathroom to brush his teeth for the night.

When he came out he saw Daphne sitting on his bed clearly waiting for him. She was absentmindedly twiddling her new ring and using her upper teeth to worry at her bottom lip. She was wearing a set of pale blue pyjamas; short sleeved and shorts.

Harry smiled and said, "What can I do for you, Daphne?"

"Get changed into your pyjamas first," she said. "Then we can talk."

With a grin, he said, "Yes, Ma'am."

"Prat!" she absentmindedly replied.

He picked up his pyjamas off the bed and took them with him into the bathroom to get changed.

Before returning to the bedroom he left his 'dirty' clothes on the floor in the bathroom. Re-entering the bedroom he walked around the foot of the bed where she was sitting and climbed up onto the bed to sit cross-legged on top of the blankets near the pillow end.

Meanwhile, Daphne moved to sit with her legs tucked under herself on the foot of the bed facing him. She kept her head down.

"Firstly," she said, "I want to thank you for the ring. It's really beautiful."

"You're most welcome," replied Harry. "I was worried you wouldn't like it because they weren't your colours, or something."

Her head shot up to look at him and she said, "Oh, no! I love sapphires! It's my favourite gemstone because blue's my favourite colour."

"I picked it because I think the stone is a perfect complement to your eyes," said Harry. "And the white gold of the band better suits your skin tone."

"I know," she softly said, looking closer at the ring. "It's perfect."

"I also wanted to thank you for the ring," she continued, "because it'll make life easier for me in Slytherin."

"_If_ you get into Slytherin, that is."

"Yeah - _if_," she agreed. "This will stop those in there who will try to use their family positions against me. Especially, the boys."

"They had best _not_ attempt it," growled Harry. "And I want you to immediately let me know if anyone _does_ attempt anything, alright?"

Looking back up at Harry again, she shyly nodded.

"I - also wanted to know if I could borrow that book on Occlumency you have," she asked. "Daddy and Mummy have been teaching it to me but I want to see if there's anything else in the book I can use towards building my mental shields."

With a shrug, Harry replied, "Of course," and clambered off the bed. Unlocking his trunk to the correct side he quickly found the right book and offered it to her before relocking the trunk and returning to his place on the bed.

"Thank you, Harry," she said, looking down at the book now in her lap.

"You're welcome," he replied.

Sensing the girl wanted to talk to him about something else, Harry decided to lead the conversation by asking about her other friends.

"Well, you know, of course, about Tracey. Then there's Susan Bones, the Heiress to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Bones, and Hannah Abbott of the Noble and Ancient House of Abbott. At least, they're the core group of my friends. There are other kids our age of whom I'm on friendly terms, but we're not close enough to be asked as individuals around to each other's homes.

"We're not seen as a 'Light' House, so many 'Light' families are wary of letting their kids mix with us; and Daddy doesn't want us to have too much to do with the 'Dark' families in case we're seen as 'Dark' ourselves. It's mainly kids of families that don't care about the 'Light' and 'Dark' divide we mainly mix with. And that includes Tracey and the few others."

"And what about me?" asked Harry. "The Potters are supposedly a 'Light' family. And, yet, here I am staying with you."

Smiling at him, she said, "The betrothal contract renders the distinction between 'Light', 'Grey' and 'Dark' moot. No Ancient House would _ever_ question you're firmly under the protection of House Greengrass, due to the betrothal contract; just as I fall under the protection of House Potter. I daresay Regent Bones and Madam Longbottom would have been quite opposed to you spending even an evening with us alone, if not for the betrothal.

"Daddy doesn't know, or remember, what was going through his head when he signed the betrothal contract; but, he suspects it had to do with trying to more closely align House Greengrass with the 'Light' without openly coming out in support of the 'Light' against You-Know-Who. By tradition, betrothal contracts have always been a protected way by which a House can shift its loyalties. If only temporarily."

Harry sighed and shook his head. "It all sounds so - overly simplistic. We're eleven years old. And yet, because we're born into a certain House, we're already judged on something that should be based on an _individual's_ developed personality, from the moment of our birth.

"I've also had it - impressed upon me - that the Potters are a 'Light' House. However, from what I've read and heard from others, I don't see myself as 'Light'. I see myself more as 'Light Grey', if not fully 'Grey'. There are just too many collective views of the 'Light' that I simply _cannot_ see myself agreeing with or supporting. And, besides, there's _no_ way I can see myself aligning House Potter with the 'Light' as long as Albus _bloody_ Dumbledore is the recognised 'Leader of the Light'."

"I'm pretty sure Daddy sees House Greengrass the same way," said Daphne softly.

Daphne left a few minutes later and Harry settled down into his meditative state in a lotus position. He was deep into his mind when Cygnus and Isabel came by later to check and ensure the kids were all abed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	6. Hogwarts Express

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Six – Hogwarts Express**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the morning of the ride to Hogwarts, Harry was sitting at the informal dining table reading that morning's Daily Prophet and sipping on a mug of coffee. He could hear Daphne calling out to Isabel trying to find this or that, and otherwise being in a frazzled state finalising her packing. Harry's trunk was already packed with everything bar Hedwig's cage stowed inside. His trunk, with Hedwig's cage on top, was sitting ready to go near the floo.

Harry, himself, was already dressed, with his school robes lying on the top layer inside his trunk ready to be taken out and donned. He'd also made a last minute inspection of Hedwig to ensure her health, and would shortly send her winging her way to Hogwarts in advance. He felt it was a better idea than forcing her to endure being caged on the Express.

Cygnus was sitting opposite reading his own copy of the Daily Prophet and sipping on a cup of tea.

Suddenly, Daphne burst in through the door and blurted to Harry, "Harry, there's not enough room in my trunk. Can I put some stuff in yours?"

"Sure, why not," he calmly replied. "You have access to it now. Why not put some of your non school uniform clothes in there. And put the set of uniform you want to change into on the train on top. That way, you wont need to open your trunk on the train."

She thought furiously for a few moments before suddenly launching herself forward and planting a smooch on Harry's cheek. "Thanks, Harry! You're the best!" And dashed back out of the room again.

Harry just sat there a bit stunned. Cygnus saw the expression on his face and snorted in amusement.

"Did she just do what I think she just did?" asked Harry with no small amount of wonder.

"Kissed you? Yeah, she did," replied Cygnus.

"Hunh!" snuffled Harry. "I'll just have to do something nice for her more often, then. If that's how she's going to repay me."

Cygnus chuckled in response.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After Daphne had moved through the Estate like a whirling dervish, she was soon packed and ready to go. As it was a Sunday, Cygnus was able to join them on the trip.

Stepping onto the platform through the barrier, Harry's senses were assaulted by the smell of burning coal, the tang of steam, and the sounds of lots of children and their parents both greeting each other and saying their goodbyes.

Harry had no sooner come to a halt, looking about in wonder, when he was hit by a trolley to the back of his legs from behind. He hadn't moved out of the way of the barrier quickly enough and someone coming through from the other side wasn't able to stop in time before hitting him.

"Sorry," he muttered over his shoulder.

He then followed the Greengrasses further onto the platform; though, walking with a little bit of a limp. He was annoyed with himself for not considering it was likely to happen.

Once away from the barrier he asked Daphne if there was any particular spot where she'd be meeting up with Tracey.

"No," she replied. "What about you with Susan and Neville?"

Harry just shook his head and said, "We just agreed to meet up on the train and, whoever was here first, would find a compartment for us."

With a wry smile she said, "In that case, you'd best leave your trunk and cage here and go and have a look. You really don't want to be dragging either down the length of the train, do you?"

"Actually, that's a good idea," he replied. "You don't mind?"

"No," she said. "Besides, I don't want to be dragging my trunk down the length of the train, either."

"Okay, I'll be as quick as I can," Turning to the Cygnus and Isabel he said, "I'm just going to search the train for our friends and be right back, alright?"

"Alright, Harry," replied Isabel with a smile. "Apparently, we're waiting here for Tracey, anyway."

Harry quickly ducked away and boarded the train via the first carriage. Then he proceeded down the length of the train looking in to compartments as he went. About ten minutes later he reached the caboose car and turned about, walking back up the length of the train again peering into compartments as he went.

Hopping back off the train he quickly approached the Greengrasses, since joined by the Davises, and said, "They're not on the train yet. But, compartments are starting to be 'reserved' pretty quickly. I suggest we board now and claim one for our own."

"Put your trunks onboard and come back out," said Cygnus. "I want to introduce you to a few people, Harry."

Harry gave a nod and grabbed the handle of Daphne's trunk. He put that onto the carriage floor just inside the door and allowed her to pass. Then grabbed Tracey's trunk and did the same for her. Once he was satisfied the girls were organised he picked up the handle of his own trunk and put that inside before stepping past. With Hedwig's cage in one hand, and gripping the handle of on end of his trunk with the other, he followed the girls.

The girls led him through a couple of carriages before they selected one, indicating for him to precede them inside.

Inside he glanced around before realising the trunks went into the overhead racks. He picked his up and shoved it onto the rack. Then looked to see both girls trying to act coquettish and indicating their own trunks.

With a sigh, he had soon manhandled both trunks up and alongside his own.

"Thank you, Harry," said Daphne after giving him a flirty little kiss on the cheek. Tracey followed it up with one of her own.

"You do realise your trunks," he said, "even though they have Featherweight Charms on them, are still exceedingly difficult to manoeuvre up onto those racks, right?"

"Yes, Harry. But, that's why we have you to handle them for us, right?" said Daphne, as if it explained everything.

Before Harry could respond, Tracey said, "Come on. You promised to rejoin the families back on the platform so Uncle Cygnus can introduce you to people." And walked off, closely followed by Daphne. Harry sighed and followed them off back to the others.

Back on the platform, Cygnus managed to introduce Harry to no less than a dozen people. Harry worked hard mentally to remember faces and associate names with them. He also stored in his mind the little facts about them which Cygnus mentioned. One was a hard worker within the Misuse of Magic Office at the Ministry; that person was an import/exporter of rare potion ingredients. Another was an ally on the Wizengamot.

While Cygnus was busy introducing Harry to what he felt was everyone, Susan turned up with her aunt in tow, closely followed by Neville and Gran. Daphne and Tracey took the pair of them on board to show them the compartment they'd snagged, while Aunt Amelia and Gran spoke with Cygnus, Isabel and Tracey's parents. Then they also started introducing Harry to people they thought he should get to know.

By the time it was almost 11.00am, Harry was having trouble trying to maintain focus on what he was doing. And he was feeling a little irritable from it. The first five minute warning whistle, indicating the train was about to depart, was heard from the engine, and Harry was happy to escape back to the train.

However, just as he was about to board, he was interrupted by a family full of redheads that had just turned up. He was almost rudely yanked back from stepping on board by the oldest boys. One of which said, "Hang on there a tic, old chap. Mind giving us a hand with our trunks?"

With a sigh, Harry quickly assisted them loading four school trunks onto the train before being able to step onboard himself.

"Thanks much, kind sir," said one of them, before he had a chance to move away down the passageway. One redhead - one of a set of twins - looked more closely at him, and said, "Oi! You're Harry Potter!"

"Yes," said Harry in response before he was finally able to get free of the rabid redheads.

He quickly moved down the passageway and entered the cabin where he'd first stored his, Daphne's and Tracey's trunks. And, with a sigh, collapsed onto one of the seats.

"It was bad enough trying to remember all the names, faces and details of the people Cygnus, Aunt Amelia and Gran introduced me to; I then had to run into a rabble of redheads as I was trying to board the train," he grumped.

"Rabble of redheads?" asked Susan.

"I think he means the Weasleys," replied Neville with a bit of an embarrassed chuckle. "When I stuck my head out the window, it was to tell Harry to hurry up. However, he was already about to board. That's when the Weasleys intercepted him and made him help load their trunks before he could get on board."

"Yeah," said Harry. "_Some_ people seem to think my name is _Porter_, instead of _Potter_."

"Aw! Poor baby," mock simpered Tracey.

The train had only just begun moving, and he was about to retaliate against Tracey, when they were joined by a thin young blonde girl with hair in pigtails Harry had never met before.

"Hi!" she said, stepping over legs and sitting next to Susan.

Susan said, "Harry, this is my friend, Hannah Abbott. Hannah, this is also my friend, Harry - Harry Potter."

Hannah looked at him in shock and squeaked, "Really?"

Harry replied, "Yes, I'm really Susan's friend."

Hannah had the grace to blush. "Sorry," she said.

Harry smiled back and said, "No, I should be; and am."

Susan and Hannah then engaged in a quietly spoken discussion about 'girl things' and what they'd been up to over the past few days since they'd last seen each other. Neville was having trouble keeping his pet toad from jumping out of the compartment, or into trouble anywhere else, so he got down Hedwig's cage and gave it to the other boy.

"Put Trevor in this, Neville," he said. "It'll keep you from losing him."

Gratefully, Neville quickly accepted the cage and suggestion, housing the toad locked inside.

Harry was feeling a little irritated about the day already, so sat back with the intention of mediating for a while.

However, before he had a chance to sink into it, the door was yanked opened by the smallest of the aforementioned redheads.

The boy took a look around before his eyes alighted on Harry. Stepping through the door he said, "Can I sit here? Everywhere else is full."

Harry stared back at him, annoyed his meditation was interrupted by him. "No, it's not. I just walked past a good half dozen compartments that had less people in them than we already have in here. I do not like liars."

"Errr - They have Slytherins in them," the boy tried again.

"They're in here, too," Daphne snapped back.

"But - but, _that's_ Harry Potter!" the boy stuttered, pointing at Harry. "He _can't_ be sitting with snakes! It's not right!"

"And _now_ we come to the heart of the truth," snarled Harry. "You don't want to sit in here because 'everywhere else is full'; you want to sit in here because _Harry Potter_'s in here. Well, Harry Potter's not interested in sitting with a liar. Now, _get_ out before you find yourself _thrown_ out!"

With a face reddening with either embarrassment or rage or a combination of both, the boy muttered something about 'arrogant gits' and 'fame's gone to his head' before he backed out and slammed the door shut behind him. Harry watched him stomp off down the passageway dragging his trunk behind him.

Sitting back with his eyes closed Harry said, "Sorry. He pushed all my buttons, that one."

"'That one' was Ron Weasley," said Susan, also upset. "He's the youngest of six boys. His only sister is the only one younger than him in their family of seven kids. His father works for my Auntie and heads the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office. I've met him at various DMLE parties over the years. He's a greedy-guts when it comes to food and is often jealous of what other people have. I suggest staying well away from him."

"I, for one, intend to," said Harry.

After managing to lightly meditate for a while, and get a bit of a handle on his rising temper, they were next interrupted by a young bushy haired girl already wearing her school robes who appeared to be upset. Knocking on the door before opening it, she asked in a soft voice, "Can I sit in here please?"

Susan took one look at her and said, "Come in, and take a seat."

The girl entered and sat next to Susan, sniffling a bit.

"What happened?" Susan asked in a gentle voice.

"These older girls, up there," she indicated towards the front carriages of the train, "called me names when I said my parents were muggles. Then they threw me out of the compartment. I don't know what I did wrong," the girl sobbed.

"Nothing," said Daphne. "You did nothing wrong. You will find - Miss?"

"Granger," the girl replied. "Hermione Granger."

"You will find, Miss Granger, that there are those in the wizarding world who allow their bigotry to rule their lives. They think of muggleborns, such as yourself, as beneath them. That just makes them idiots," Daphne calmly said. "However, because you're a muggleborn, I'm afraid you're going to have to get used to dealing with the likes of them. It's the same bigotry that has white people call black people 'gollywogs' in the muggle world."

"How do you deal with it?" Hermione asked Daphne.

"I don't have to," replied Daphne. "I'm what's known as a pureblood. I can trace my family on both sides back many wizarding generations. The same applies to Susan, and Neville," she said indicating the two of them. "Tracey and Harry, here, on the other hand, are what's known as half-bloods. One wizarding line; one muggle line. And I'm Daphne, by the way."

After looking around as Daphne indicated the others in the room, Hermione's eyes rested with a quizzical look on Harry. Suddenly her eyes widened a little in surprise. "You're Harry Potter!" she exclaimed. "I've read all about you..." and her voice trailed off.

As soon as Hermione exclaimed 'you're Harry Potter' Harry's expression changed to one of great disappointment, he dropped his chin to his chest and groaned.

Realising she'd just done something wrong, she said, "Ummm - I guess that wasn't the right thing to say. I'm sorry." Her face screwed up and it looked like she was going to cry again as she, too, dropped her chin to her chest.

Sighing, Harry looked up and said, "Sorry. You weren't to know. I just do not like being considered famous.

Looking up with tears in her eyes, Hermione near-plaintively asked, "Why ever not?"

"Think about _why_ it is I'm famous," said Harry.

"Ummm - you're supposed to be the Boy-Who-Lived. The one who killed Voldemort," replied Hermione. She didn't see most of the others wince at her casual mention of the name.

"Am I?" asked Harry. "No. I see it as - I'm famous for what happened on the night of the 31st of October 1981. The night my parents were brutally murdered by a psychotic sociopath right in front of my infant eyes. The night I became a lonely orphan. Every time someone harps on about the Boy-Who-Lived, I'm reminded of my parent's murder."

"Oh, God!" exclaimed Hermione. "I'm soooo sorry. I didn't think..."

Harry held up a hand to forestall any more. "No one really _ever_ does see it from my side," he softly said. "They just don't think it through. For them, the 31st of October is a day of joyous celebration; the day the threat of Voldemort was removed from their lives. For me, it's one of self-pity and sorrowful memoria."

When he finished speaking Daphne leaned in to him and softly planted a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you, Harry," she said. "Thank you for helping me understand it from your point of view."

Harry just gently nodded as he blushed a little.

Hermione softly said, "None of the books about that night, or about you, ever mention that side of it."

Harry gently snorted and said, "You shouldn't rely too much on what's written in books, Miss Granger. Most of them are lies and half-truths, anyway."

"No," said Hermione. "I don't mean those silly novels like '_Harry Potter and the Bashful Banshee_'; I mean '_The Boy Who Lived: Our Youngest Hero_'. That one says it's a true and accurate recollection of the days leading up to the event, the event itself, and the days following."

Harry snorted and said, "I've read it, Miss Granger. I've even got a copy of it in my trunk. It's pretty much a complete pile of hippogriff crap. _All_ the books are."

"Wha..?" asked Hermione, completely confused. "No. But. It can't be!"

Tracey said, "Think about it, Miss Granger. The only person who was there and lived through the event - and didn't end up locked away in prison - is Harry. And, _no one_ has ever approached Harry to ask for his recollections of the event."

"Ergo," said Daphne, taking it up. "_No one_ has given their recollection of the events - who was actually there - to the author of the book. So, ask yourself this: How were they able to get the information to report it as an accurate recollection?"

"But..." spluttered Hermione. "That's - They _lied_!?"

"Indeed," said Daphne quite calmly. "Indeed, they did."

"I think I'll be asking for my money back," huffed the young girl.

Harry chuckled and said, "That's actually not a bad idea."

After things started to settle down again; and the others were talking amongst themselves; Harry, again, tried to meditate for a while.

He was yet again interrupted by the door being yanked open. Three boys stood in the doorway. The one front and centre was of average height but was slender in comparison to the two apes stood behind him. He had pale slender features, almost effeminate, with white blonde hair slicked back. Harry wondered how much hair gel the boy went through in a week.

"Is it true?" the blonde boy asked, looking directly at Harry. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Really?" asked Harry. "And how would they know that?" He was looking at the other boys. Both of them were thickset and looked extremely mean, though dense. Standing either side of the pale boy they looked like bodyguards.

"Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle," said the boy carelessly flicking his hand to indicate each, ignoring Harry's question but noticing where he was looking. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Neville gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. Draco Malfoy looked at him.

"Oh," Malfoy sneered at Neville. "It's you, squib."

Turning back to Harry he said, "You'll soon find out _some_ wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. _I_ can help you there."

He held out his hand to shake Harry's, but Harry didn't take it.

Instead, Harry turned to Daphne and asked in as overly cultured a voice as he could manage, "Greengrass? Do we _know_ a Malfoy?"

With her face schooled into a stone-like mask, Daphne considered the question for a while before replying with a similar voice, "Malfoy. A _lesser_ House. His grandfather _bought_ his Lordship, if I recall. And his father _reportedly_ has bought the ear of the Minister. The family is _somewhat_ wealthy. Not in _your_ league, of course.

"Oh, and he's a cousin of yours, or some such. At least, his mother is a _Black_. Hmmm - He _might_ be worth knowing."

Neville, Tracey, Susan and Hermione were all watching their byplay in shock. Malfoy had lowered his hand but still stood there trembling in a mixture of shame and rage.

"A Black; _really_?" asked Harry mock-feigning interest. "Not an _Heiress_, was she?"

"_Merlin_, no," replied Daphne. "Third daughter of a minor arm, if I remember correctly."

Harry gave a big sigh and said, "Well, as he _is_ a cousin, of sorts; I suppose I _should_ make an effort."

He slowly rose to his feet and finally faced Malfoy. "I'm sure your mother, as she _was_ a Black, taught you better manners than to just _barge_ into the compartment of your social betters without even knocking first. However, as you _are_ a cousin, I suppose I can overlook your uncouth behaviour and poor self-introduction for now.

"I am, indeed, Mister Harry James Potter, _Head_ of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. I'm sure you're _most_ pleased to finally meet me.

"And, as I'm currently sitting in a compartment and am friends with Mister Neville Longbottom, Heir Apparent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom; Miss Daphne Greengrass, Heiress Presumptive of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass; Miss Tracey Davis, Heiress of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Davis; Miss Susan Bones, Heiress Apparent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Bones; and Miss Hannah Abbott, Heiress of the Noble and Ancient House of Abbott - as you can see - I have _not_ made friends with 'the wrong sort', as you put it."

Leaning forward slightly with his head cocked 'just so', he asked, "Will there be anything else - cousin?"

Almost vibrating in anger and shame, Malfoy gritted out, 'No,' before stepping back out the door, slamming the door shut and storming off down the passageway.

After he'd left, Harry flopped back into his seat and, chuckling, said, "That was kind of fun!"

A few moments later, Daphne burst into outright laughter; and was soon followed by everyone except Hermione. She was trying not to smile but was in a bit of shock.

"Sweet _Merlin_!" said Daphne. "That went even better than I thought it would!" And cracked up laughing again.

Through her laughter, Tracey semi-accused, "You - you had that _planned_, didn't you!"

Trying to calm down again and wiping tears from her eyes, Daphne replied, "Yes. After I told Harry what sort of an arrogant poncy git Malfoy was, he came up with the idea of being an even bigger ponce than _he_ was and to 'out-arrogance' him. We worked on it, together, and hoped the right people - meaning, you lot - were all in place when 'Poncy-Git' made his move."

"You mean," asked Hermione, clearly trying to get her head around what she'd heard, "You people really are those titles - I mean - you're..."

"Relax, Miss Granger," interrupted Daphne. "Yes; we are all Heirs and Heiresses of some very important families. Harry, however, is already the Head of House Potter, and has been for a few weeks since his eleventh birthday."

Tracey took it from there. "What you see here - now that I think of it - is a very powerful bloc of very powerful families from within wizarding Britain. Harry, once he reaches his majority, will become Lord Potter; Daphne, as his betrothed, will become Lady Potter when they marry, and mayhap Lady Greengrass-Potter; Susan will become Lady Bones when she reaches her majority; my older brother will become Lord Davis when my father passes, and I might become Lady 'something else' if I become betrothed to someone of equal or greater station; the same applies to Hannah; as she, too, has an older sibling."

"Wow!" said Hermione. "You're all, like, wizarding royalty."

"Pretty much," said Harry, with a bit of a shrug. "However, unlike the poncy git by the name of Malfoy you just met, _we_ don't put on the la-di-dah airs those like him do. We prefer to be just ordinary folks. There's no need to rub someone's face in it - unless they're someone like Malfoy."

"And - ummm - Why do you call each other by your first names, and me as 'Miss Granger'?" she timidly asked.

"Ah!" said Daphne. "That would be because you haven't given us leave to _use_ your first name. It's considered rude in the wizarding world to use someone's first name when they've not given you leave to do so."

"Oh! Sorry!" blushed Hermione. "Please call me Hermione. Everyone."

"Thank you - Hermione," replied Daphne with a slight nod.

"Have I - done something wrong when I've used your first name?" she asked worriedly.

"No, because you were introduced using first names only," replied Daphne. "Don't worry, you caused no slight. However, it's something you should be aware of, once we get to Hogwarts."

"Is there a book on this?" she asked.

That elicited a chuckle from almost everyone.

"There's _many_ books on this," Tracey laughed.

"I have one in my trunk," said Harry. "I'll get it out for you when we get changed into our school robes."

"So, it's Mister or Miss when introduced. But, use first names when invited to do so. Anything else I should know so I don't make a fool of myself?" asked Hermione.

"Well, you're close. What you said applies to _almost_ all occasions. However, on formal occasions, things change for those of us of noble lines," said Harry.

"Using Daphne, here, as an example," he said. "She's 'Daphne' to those invited to use her given name in informal settings, she's 'Miss Greengrass' to those who _haven't_ been invited to use her given name in informal settings, she's 'Lady Daphne' on some formal occasions - particularly conversationally, and she's 'Heiress Greengrass' for formal announcements and the like. Lady Greengrass is her mother, married to Lord Greengrass. If, perish the thought, Daphne's father passes, Lady Greengrass will become Dowager Lady Greengrass formally and Dame Greengrass informally; and Daphne, on her majority before she marries me, will become Lady Greengrass.

"Now Susan, like me, is an orphan. And Susan's titling comes by way of her father. Even though there is no Lady Bones, at present, Susan is still formally known as 'Lady Susan'. The younger sister of her father, Amelia Bones, is Susan's current guardian. Now, Aunt Amelia is also Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, the DMLE. As such she holds a seat on the Wizengamot, the wizarding world's parliament, and becomes known informally as Madam Bones. Plus, she has also taken on the role as Susan's Regent and has taken seat on the Wizengamot in that role, as well. So that also makes her - when it has to do with Wizengamot proceedings relating to House Bones or business matters relating to House Bones - Regent Bones."

"On the male side of the divide it's no less murky. Let's take Neville, for example..." to which Neville nodded he was okay with it, "... Neville's father is still alive and is Lord Longbottom. However, Lord Longbottom is currently unable to attend to his duties. Though Neville is Heir Apparent, he is considered too young to take on those duties himself. So, his paternal grandmother, Augusta Longbottom - Dowager Lady Longbottom - is acting as both his guardian and regent. She currently sits the Wizengamot as Regent Longbottom. Neville is Heir Longbottom, or Mister Longbottom. And Augusta is Dowager Lady Longbottom, or Dame Longbottom or just Madam Longbottom. Only her very closest friends and family ever get to call her anything else."

That made Neville laugh. "You got that right."

"Now, my situation is rather unique." Looking around, Harry said, "What I'm about to tell you is a closely guarded secret. Daphne, Neville and Susan are pretty much aware of this already; and the information is protected under House alliances. But, I'm putting a great deal of trust in you - Tracey, Hannah and Hermione - to keep this to yourselves unless I _specifically_ tell you otherwise, alright?"

"You don't need a magical oath on it, do you?" asked Tracey, a little worried.

"No, just your word will do me," replied Harry

After the three gave it, he said, "I'm 'Harry' for invited informal, 'Mister Potter' for uninvited informal, and 'Heir Potter' for formal. However, because I've already accepted the Headship for House Potter, I may also be called 'Lord Potter' as a mark of acknowledgement to my status on formal occasions. Once I attain my majority at seventeen - or I'm otherwise legally emancipated before then - I then properly become Lord Potter, and may be referred to as '_The_ Potter'.

"My current guardians are muggles, and Albus Dumbledore has managed to get himself named as my _magical_ guardian. And, as neither my muggle guardians nor Dumbledore, were listed in my parents' Will as who they designated for me to have as guardians, it appears he have may done it _illegally_. However, though he claims to be my magical guardian, he is not acting as my regent. Instead, it appears he has appointed a _proxy_ to my House seat. Something of which I'm not _bloody_ happy about, and something else which it appears he was not legally allowed to do so."

"But, Albus Dumbledore is Headmaster of Hogwarts, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Supreme Mugwump of the ICW, and the Leader of the Light!" exclaimed Hermione. "How could he do such a thing?"

"Yes; he's got _everyone_ fooled, Hermione," growled Harry. "Lord Greengrass, Madam Bones and Regent Longbottom all agree it sounds very dodgy; so, they're currently researching through Ministerial and Wizengamot records to unearth the truth."

"Furthermore, I've also discovered my godfather, Sirius Black, has also formally named me _his_ Heir."

That drew a gasp from just about everyone but Hermione.

Harry nodded and said, "According to the goblins, Sirius Black, though he currently resides in Azkaban, became Lord Apparent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black when his grandfather passed on the 31st of March earlier this year..."

"But, that's not possible!" exclaimed Tracey, cutting in. "Anyone sentenced to life in Azkaban is automatically and magically stripped of being able to hold a Lordship!"

"We know," replied Harry. "That's yet another issue Lord Greengrass, Madam Bones and Regent Longbottom are researching through Ministerial and Wizengamot records. The _why_ of it."

Taking a breath, he said, "Now, as Sirius Black is currently Lord Apparent, and I'm his designated Heir, that makes me Heir Presumptive for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. So, I can also be formally addressed as Heir Black. And Dumbledore also appears to know that and has placed a proxy on that House seat, as well - the bastard.

"And, the reason that information is to be kept secret is because Draco Malfoy, the poncy git of whom you've just met, thinks _he's_ Heir Black. He's wrong. But, I don't want to put the idea in his father's head, through him, to get me bumped off. Thus ensuring Malfoy gets control of the Black fortune. I think the only reason Sirius Black isn't currently dead is because Malfoy Senior expects the conditions of Azkaban to kill off Black any day now; thereby saving him the effort and Galleons to affect it."

After a few more questions and answers were discussed, Harry suggested he and Neville lift down the girls' trunks so they could get changed into their school robes. After the girls agreed, he and Neville lifted down the trunks for Tracey and Susan, plus Harry's as Daphne followed his earlier suggestion and put her 'travelling' school robes in the top of his trunk.

Hannah headed back to the compartment where she had left her own trunk with the promise she'd be right back with her robes to change into. And Hermione was already wearing hers.

Harry and Neville then stepped out of the compartment and stood guard while the girls changed. Hannah came back carrying a bundle of clothes a short while later and ducked right in.

A few minutes later, the compartment door was slid open and the boys re-entered changing places with the girls. They quickly restowed Tracey and Susan's trunks before getting down Neville's. The boys quickly changed, then opened the door for the girls to re-enter. Harry scooped up the book '_Noble Etiquette_' before also scooping up the book '_An Introduction to the Wizarding World_' for Hermione.

Relocking the trunk, he and Neville quickly restowed both trunks in the overhead, before letting the girls back in and resuming their seats. Harry then offered both books to Hermione and said, "Keep them for as long as you need them or until I ask for them, and don't on-loan them to anyone else."

Hermione nodded and said, "Thank you, Harry." Before she opened the first book to have a quick scan through it.

When he sat down, Daphne cuddled into the side of him and whispered, "My big strong man, you."

Harry just snorted in response.

_‗_  
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	7. Post Incident

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seven – Post Incident**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
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That morning, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore rose from his bed in his private quarters almost gleefully. Today was the day Harry Potter was arriving for his first day at Hogwarts. After almost twelve years of planning, stage two of his Greater Good Plan was about to commence. Stage one, of course, was the boy being raised in safety by his mother's sister's family.

It was almost six weeks ago his deputy, Deputy Headmistress Professor Minerva McGonagall, entered his office with a smile. Grasped in her off-hand was a piece of muggle paper. She approached his desk and offered it to him.

"He's coming, Albus," she said with a smile.

Dumbledore accepted the slip of paper and turned it right way up. Written upon it with a muggle pen was the simple statement:

_I accept  
Harry Potter_

Offering the slip back to the tall witch before him, he said, "Quite concise, but effective in its communication. Thank you for showing it to me, Minerva."

Taking back the slip of paper McGonagall said, "I find myself quite looking forward to young Mister Potter coming to Hogwarts. I wonder if he'll be anything like his father, or his mother, before him."

"I suspect we won't know the answer to that until well after he's settled into life here," replied Dumbledore, his eyes twinkling. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I find myself mired in many hours of parchmentwork through which to wade ere I can say I'm done for the day."

Hesitating just a moment, McGonagall said, "Of course, Albus. I just find myself wanting to share this news with everyone." Then she turned about and walked back out the office.

_‗_  
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The little red-headed First Year Hufflepuff, Susan Bones, was as stunned as everyone else what Harry Potter said when he was standing next to the stool with the Sorting Hat upon it. She was still stunned when he stormed off the platform and stormed back up between the tables. And was just as stunned when he began to disrobe as he suddenly mounted the Hufflepuff table about two thirds of the way down it's length.

However, when she saw the scars, the marks, and the faded, yellowing bruises on the boy's chest, back and arms, she was horrified. She knew what she had to do. She needed to get her aunt - _fast_.

She climbed back up from the table and ran out of the room as fast as she could. As she ran she pulled the charm on her necklace chain out from under he robes. She grabbed hold of the charm and yanked on it.

Her aunt had told her it was an emergency contact charm. If Susan was in trouble, she was to activate it. Her aunt would come running.

Susan knew Aunt Amelia could not apparate onto the grounds of Hogwarts, so she ran as fast as she could towards where her aunt _would_ appear. That spot was directly outside the main gates to the grounds. She did not notice the flash of magic behind her, or see the windows of the Great Hall blow outwards in shattered glass.

Susan ran as fast as she could. But, being a crying young girl, wasn't as fast as her aunt and a couple of aurors could arrive outside the main gate and come running towards the castle.

Susan ran into the arms of her aunt while the two aurors stopped either side and scanned the surrounds looking for threats.

Still sobbing, Susan bawled, "It's Harry, Aunt Ami! He's been horribly beaten!"

Trying to calm her niece Madam Bones paused in shock before her training kicked in. 'The Boy-Who-Lived? Beaten?' she thought. 'Sweet Merlin!'

"Where is he, Susan?" she implored.

Backing away from her aunt, Susan sobbingly replied, "He's in the Great Hall!"

Looking at both her aurors Madam Bones snapped at them, "_Go!_"

They got. Together, they ran the rest of the way to the castle; ran in through the main doors and into the Great Hall with wands drawn.

They were met with what could only be described as chaos.

The Hall was poorly lit. Most of the floating candles had been knocked down. Most of the ones still lit were hovering over and behind the head table.

They found a bare-chested young boy was lying sprawled out on his back on the Hufflepuff table. Blood covered his face. There were crying children everywhere and shouting was going on up at the head table. Golden crockery and cutlery was strewn across the floor mixed in with extinguished candles and table decorations. Little remained on most of the tables.

Children were milling around - some sitting at benches, others standing. They were crying, sobbing or just looking around in a daze.

Both aurors barked out, "Aurors!"

The school healer, Poppy Pomfrey, was attempting to attend the boy on the table while clearing the area of other, clearly distressed, children. She ignored the aurors. However, so did everyone else.

After a few moments, Pomfrey looked up at them and snapped out, "Go to the fireplace in the infirmary and call Saint Mungo's. Tell them I've got many multiple trauma victims here and need any and all assistance they can send."

When neither auror moved with the alacrity she expected, she barked at them, "_Go_!"

Again, they got. A few moments later one returned and said to her, "My partner will place that call. I'm a trained battle medic. What do you need?"

Hesitating just a moment she said, "Go to the head table. One of the professors was attacked by what appeared to be a malevolent spirit. He's the one in the lilac coloured robes and turban."

The battle medic healer ran towards the head table just as his boss, Madam Bones, entered the Hall with young Susan in tow. Just as she cleared the doors she stopped, just as stunned as her two aurors first were.

Susan was first to recover. She ran into the chaos looking for her friend, Hannah Abbott.

Feeling her niece run past her, Madam Bones snapped to and strode over to Pomfrey. "Poppy!" she cried. "What in Merlin's name happened here?"

Just glancing over her shoulder at the head of the DMLE, Pomfrey snapped, "I don't have time to answer your questions, Amelia. I'm trying to save this young man's life! Go see if you can get any sense out of Minerva or Filius. That's when she noticed Harry lying on the table."

Madam Bones just nodded with a grim look, drew her auror's badge from underneath her robes and tapped it with the tip of her wand. Speaking into it, she barked, "I want all on duty aurors not otherwise engaged to hustle their bums to the Great Hall in Hogwarts _now_! We've got an emergency here, people!"

Tapping the badge again she dropped it back into her robes and carefully made her way through the chaos to the head table. She wanted answers, and she wanted them now.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Clearing the last of the students, she was confronted with Minerva McGonagall clearly berating Albus Dumbledore at the top of her lungs behind a privacy bubble. The woman was also clearly apoplectic with rage.

Not wanting to spend her time trying to calm either verbal combatant, Aunt Amelia simply fired stunners at them both, knocking both out. Checking to ensure there would be no one about to hex her back she spun on her heel, stuck her finger and thumb just inside her mouth and let blast with a loud whistle.

The students were startled enough to quieten down and look back at her.

"Right!" she called. "I'm Madam Amelia Bones, Head of the DMLE. I'm taking charge here, so listen up."

When she was sure she had their attention she continued, "I want all students who are uninjured to take seat at either the Gryffindor or Slytherin tables, or standing along the wall on the other side of them. I do not care what your normal houses are, you will do this. I want this passage up the middle..." indicating the space between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, "... cleared immediately. Those students who have been injured in any way, I want you sitting at either the Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff tables."

Waiting a few moments to ensure everyone had heard, she again continued, "Well? Move!"

Once she saw the children were beginning to move she turned back to the staff table. Glaring at the remaining conscious staff she snapped out, " What the bloody Hell are you lot doing just sitting there? You have clearly injured and distressed students to deal with! Professors Snape, Sprout and Flitwick check on the students for injuries. The rest of you, assist them. Now!"

The staff, finally, began to move.

"Potter just _had_ to come in and make a big scene, didn't he?" snarled a tall, greasy haired man wearing black robes. "Waltzed right in and..."

"Shut up; right now, Professor Snape!" barked Madam Bones. "If I want your opinion I'll give it to you! Now, go and do your job and look after the students."

Rounding on her battle medic auror she asked, "Well?"

Approaching her, the battle medic auror cast his own privacy shield before telling her, "The man's dead. It looks like he was suffering a recent possession, but that possession has now ended. I've nothing else that explains it."

Frowning at her auror Madam Bones sighed and said, "Cast a Notice-Me-Not field over the body but don't move it. This is clearly now a crime scene. We'll begin our investigations once we sort out the children."

As she turned back to look down the tables she saw the children had almost finished sorting themselves out with the exception of a few small groups of crying girls. That's when a group of medi-witches and -wizards rapidly walked into the Hall from the Entry Hall.

She watched as the school's healer, Poppy Pomfrey, grabbed one of the senior healers that had just entered, and was gesticulating wildly over the prone form of the boy on the Hufflepuff table. The new healer motioned for a third to join them. The others began seeing to the few minor injuries of a few students who appeared to have minor cuts and abrasions.

Bones called the diminutive Professor Filius Flitwick to join her from where he had being using his skill in charms to heal some of the minor injuries of the students.

"Alright, Filius," she began. "Now that the team of healers from Saint Mungo's is here - What the bloody Hell happened?"

Flitwick began to describe how the sorting started out as it always did each year. Then what happened when young Harry Potter's name was called and he walked up to the stool. He told her how the boy looked quite angry and how some of the other First Years appeared afraid of him. And how, when he reached the stool, his face developed a mien of fury. He told how the boy then looked up at the face of the Deputy Headmistress, where she stood alongside the stool with the Sorting Hat in her hand, and said, 'No.'

He described how the boy then berated the Headmaster and the Deputy Headmistress before he started to storm out of the Hall unwilling to be sorted, or even attend the school.

He described how the boy then stopped and climbed onto the Hufflepuff table stripping himself to the waist as he did, before screaming at and berating, pretty much, most of the school.

Then he explained how the boy finally let out a blood curdling scream towards the ceiling before his face seemed to burst open with blood. He described how an evil spirit seemed to have been ejected out of the boy's forehead as the boy appeared to expend a massive burst of accidental magic - which is how the mess around the hall occurred and some of the children were injured - before he collapsed where he stood.

Flitwick then described how the spirit ejected from the head of the young Mister Potter seemed to hesitate for a few moments before it sped towards Professor Quirinus Quirrell. It struck the professor in the head; where it seemed to rip out a kindred spirit. The Professor then collapsed onto the table; apparently, dead. The two spirits merged into a larger entity before it flew out one of the blown out windows of the Hall into the night. It was not too long afterwards that the aurors burst into the Hall.

Madam Bones listened carefully to the testimony of the diminutive professor before her before she turned back to the demi-carnage amongst the house tables.

She turned back to the Professor before reaching into her robes and pulling out a stoppered phial. She asked, "Alright, Filius; may I have a copy of the memory, please?"

"Certainly," the Professor replied. He stood there for a moment or two clearly thinking hard before pressing the tip of his wand to his right temple. Carefully drawing the wand away there was a silvery misty strand pulled with it from his temple.

As he drew his wand away Madam Bones opened the phial and held it out. The professor carefully allowed the strand to drop into the phial before allowing it to release and pulling his wand away. Madam Bones restoppered the phial and replaced it within her robes.

"Thank you, Professor," she said. "I'm sure that's going to greatly help. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if I can get an update on the health of young Mister Potter."

"Certainly," he replied. "But, do you mind if I revive Albus and Minerva?"

Hesitating for only a moment she said, "Wake them. However, I don't want to see them getting into another argument, either. And tell them both I want to have words with them after I talk to the healers."

"Certainly," the professor, again, replied.

With the students now sitting back down, and the centre passageway cleared, Madam Bones was able to walk back down to where Madam Pomfrey and the other healer were still working on who she now knew to be Harry Potter.

Calmly stepping up to them she asked, "How is he?"

Without looking around, Pomfrey replied, "His magic is still unstable but we're getting a handle on it. We think it was an unreleased infant lock that shattered."

Madam Bones hissed in shock.

The second healer took it up from there. "As for his forehead it appears there was a soul fragment buried behind it."

On hearing that Madam Bones hissed in shock, again. "It's gone?" she asked.

The healer replied, "We think the release of the lock on his magic forcefully expelled it. There was residual dark energy emanating from it, but I think I've now cleared it away. As you can see, his scar is now practically gone. We've placed him in an induced somnulus state while we get his magic stabilised.

"After that, we'll get him to Saint Mungo's to work on the rest of his injuries."

"There's more?" asked Madam Bones, shocked.

The two healers glanced up at each other for a few moments before Pomfrey replied, "A great deal more, I'm afraid. Too much to list here. And not for younger ears to hear."

Madam Bones knew she was referring to the children nearby.

"Right," said Pomfrey, suddenly. Calling out, she barked, "We need a stretcher over here ready to transport the patient directly to Saint Mungo's."

One of the other nearby healers was just packing up from applying Essence of Dittany to the cut on the forehead of a young witch. He looked up and said, "I've one in my bag. Just a moment."

Vanishing the remains of the swabs he was using on the young witch he reached into his bag, drew forth a shrunken wizarding stretcher and unshrunk it. The stretcher hovered about four feet above the floor.

Pomfrey and the other healer working on Harry then backed away, before she levitated the boy off the table and onto the stretcher. He was quickly strapped to it.

Knowing they were about to whiz the boy away, Madam Bones turned to another auror and commanded, "I want statements from at least a half dozen of those students calm enough to give one, plus one from each of the staff that were here when what happened - happened.

"I've also secured a memory from Professor Flitwick but I also want one from a student from the opposite end of the hall who's over the age of consent. This happened in the middle of the sorting so I want the children taken to their common rooms as soon as possible. They need to eat and this Hall is still a crime scene."

"What about the _un_sorted First Years?" one of the aurors asked.

Thinking for a moment, Madam Bones replied, "Ask Professor Flitwick and Sprout to spread them out amongst the Houses for tonight. They can be properly sorted later. I'll be at Saint Mungo's - and tell Professor Flitwick that, too. If Mister Potter wakes up I want to be there when he does."

"Yes, Ma'am!" the auror responded.

Madam Bones then chased after the stretcher bearing Harry. It was already out the door and on the way up the stairs to the second floor and the Infirmary.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As soon as Madam Pomfrey and the other healer had Harry stabilised enough to move, he was floo'ed through the fireplace in the Hogwarts Infirmary directly to Casualty at Saint Mungo's. Madam Bones, joined by one of her aurors, stepped through immediately after.

With young Harry still unconscious, she and her auror followed the floating gurney directly into the treatment room.

When one of the medi-witches saw her, she turned to the monocle-wearing Head of the DMLE and said, "I'm sorry, Ma'am, you cannot be in here."

Glaring back, Madam Bones said, "Too bad. I'm not letting that boy out of my sight until I have answers as to what happened in the Hogwarts Great Hall tonight."

Madam Pomfrey was relaying medical information and conditions about her young patient to the others who had now joined them in the treatment room and ignored the presence of the two senior aurors now in the room.

When she wrapped up her snappish report to the other healers she backed away to let them get to work.

Madam Bones saw that the medi-witch was done and caught her attention.

"Madam Pomfrey," she called. "A word, if I may?"

The medi-witch looked back and gave her head a short nod. "Outside, please," and gestured to the hallway outside the door.

Madam Bones turned to her auror and said, "Stay with the boy," before following the medi-witch outside.

In the hallway, she asked, "Okay, Poppy; in the words of an experienced healer, what the hell happened tonight?"

The medi-witch sighed and said, "The sorting was going as per usual..."

"Skip that," interrupted Madam Bones, "Just pick it up from when Mister Potter stepped up onto the Hufflepuff table."

Nodding, the medi-witch replied, "He was angry. No, he was livid. I've _never_ seen a young man of his age in a rage like that before, and I've seen a lot. Amongst other things, he was ranting about how Dumbledore and Minerva apparently ruined his life by abandoning him on a doorstep immediately after _that_ fateful night.

"That's when he stepped up onto the table and ripped off his robes baring his torso to the entire school. We were all completely shocked with what we were witnessing - what we saw. He was also flaring his magic, though I don't think he was aware of it. He was practically glowing.

"Suddenly he looked like he was struggling to breathe. He threw his head back and screamed. That's when he emitted an almighty pulse of magic. It was a visible wave of magical energy that knocked people and items over within close proximity to him. It also caused, for example, the failure of the enchantments that keep the candles floating above the tables. _And_ it blew out the windows in the Hall.

"He collapsed onto the table on his back and, amongst the screams of the students, there was a much more feral scream that came from him. It appeared that - whatever happened - caused a partial possession to be forced out of his head. By that time, the boy appeared to be unconscious; thank goodness!

"The partial possession - or, whatever it was - coalesced in the air above his head. It hesitated for a moment before it appeared to be dragged through the air straight at Professor Quirrell. Professor Quirrell, by this time, was also screaming and clutching his head.

"The - spirit - slammed into Professor Quirrell's head and appeared to knock another partial possession out of the Professor. The Professor slumped forward onto the table while the two spirits merged into one above his - body."

Hesitating for a moment, the medi-witch appeared horrified when she said, "The spirit had a face, Amelia. It was _He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named_!"

"Oh, sweet Merlin!" gasped the Head of the DMLE.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	8. Please Wake Up

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eight – Please Wake Up**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Madam Bones had left the hospital late the previous night after ensuring Harry was out of the woods regarding his health. He was moved with an auror guard to a critical injury and close monitoring private room after the Healers in Casualty were assured his health was stabilised.

Before she departed, though, the Lead Healer gave her a couple of sheets of parchment with a list of the injuries their scans had detected during their examination of their most famous of young patients. His face bore quite the thunderous expression as he handed over the sheets. The parchment also confirmed that the boy had, indeed, been suffering from a partial possession that was now, thankfully, gone.

The healer said, "We'll be keeping him here for a while, in one of our private treatment rooms. We're going to be practically force-feeding him a pretty substantial potion regime for the next week, at least."

"Thank you," replied Amelia. "I'll also be placing a twenty-four hour guard on him for while he's here."

"You just make sure that whoever did all this..." the Healer growled while indicating the parchment, "... is brought up on charges. I'll also stand as witness for the criminal's trial."

"Noted," sighed Madam Bones. "You take care of _him_, and I'll take care of the _culprit_."

It was now the morning after the events of the Sorting Feast and Madam Bones had only stopped for a few short hours in her investigations. She'd only managed to get about three hours sleep on the hideaway cot in her office, in all that time.

She had reviewed the memories collected by herself and her aurors from staff and students at the school, and they tallied with what she'd heard from Madam Pomfrey and Professor Flitwick.

Now, she was going through Ministry records searching for information on just where and with whom the boy had been living. Harry hadn't been too clear with addresses, and the like, when she'd last talked to him. She was also trying to discover just why the boy was specifically accusing Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid with crimes against him.

From the Ministry records she'd learned that just about all of them had been sealed by Albus Dumbledore, himself. And that Albus Dumbledore had appointed himself as the boy's magical guardian. What did not make sense was that a magical guardian was only required when the minor was a muggleborn; which Harry most certainly was not.

She was going to have to talk to Dumbledore, McGonagall and Hagrid as it appeared the boy knew they had something to do with his disappearance and subsequent abuse. Knowing the old man's penchant for disregarding the law when it ill-suited his purposes, she knew she faced an uphill battle to get any information out him.

No, first she'd need to increase the guard on the boy while he was in the hospital. Then she'd go speak to McGonagall and Hagrid before confronting Dumbledore. If necessary, she'd make sure she had all her facts before taking Dumbledore to court and forcing him to disclose what had happened to the boy. After all, he'd claimed magical guardianship of him; and that made him complicit in the boy being abused.

Rising from behind her desk she walked to her door, flung it open, and called out, "Scrimgeour! Shacklebolt! In here!" Before walking back to sit at her desk.

When the two senior aurors entered she gave them instructions to prepare a rotating roster of minimum two person teams to stand guard twenty-four seven on the boy until further notice.

"And," she growled. "If Albus Bloody Dumbledore, or any other member of Hogwarts staff excluding Poppy Pomfrey, attempts to get anywhere near him - I want them flat out refused entry. If they persist - immediately arrest them and call me. And they had better be in bloody magic suppression cuffs when I get there. Am I clear?"

"Yes, Ma'am!" they both replied.

"Good," she said emphatically. "Now, scram!"

They scrammed.

Once they'd left her office she summoned the Heads of the Department of Magical Children Services, the Improper Use of Magic Office and the Obliviation Squad. She wanted to know where the records for one Harry James Potter were being stored. And the second and third offices would have the records regarding any accidental magic the boy had cast before he entered Hogwarts.

As she was investigating a sudden death, namely one Quirinus Quirrell, she had the authority to open the sealed files regarding Harry Potter; who appeared to be at least somewhat responsible for the man's death.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On returning to the private ward at Saint Mungo's, where Harry was currently undergoing treatment, Madam Bones was waylaid from entering by a rather harried-looking Senior Auror Kingsley Shacklebolt.

"Ma'am, I need to ask you to assign a couple more aurors here," he begged.

"And why is that, Kingsley?" she asked.

"I've already had to turn away Albus Dumbledore twice from demanding entry. Plus, Lord Greengrass was also here a few minutes ago demanding entry, Madam Longbottom came by a little earlier than that, as well as a few journalists and photographers," he replied.

"Dumbledore, I understand," mused Madam Bones. "And, yes, my ruling on him being banned from entering the room stands; just as it does with the rest of the Hogwarts staff _excluding_ Madam Pomfrey. However, you are unaware that Mister Potter is betrothed to Lord Greengrass's oldest, Daphne. As such, you may grant him access. And House Potter and Longbottom are allied Houses, so Madam Longbottom is also to be allowed access.

"I'll add a second auror as back up for you out here. As per standards, inform whomever it is that joins you here that no one is to speak to the press about this, am I clear?"

Giving a respectful nod, Shacklebolt said, "Yes, Ma'am; thank you, Ma'am."

With a nod of her own, Madam Bones entered the room. Harry Potter was still unconscious but a healer was also in attendance using a charm to make the boy drink a potion.

"How is he?" asked Madam Bones.

"Healing," replied the healer. "We've put him into a dreamless sleep while we give him potions to repair the damage his body's been subjected to. Otherwise, he might've suffered a bit from the pain."

"And for how long do you expect to keep him asleep?" she asked.

"Hopefully, we'll have him awake before dinner tonight," replied the healer. "By then, the pain from the healing potions should prove no more than an annoyance. And, his magic will take care of any lingering symptoms."

Giving a grunt of acknowledgement, Madam Bones said, "As per my last, I'm to be contacted the minute he's awake. I'll be in my office at the Ministry."

The healer gave a nod in reply and said, "Yes, Madam Bones." And continued with her work as the lady in question walked back out the door.

'C'mon, Harry,' she thought. 'I need to talk to you.'

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the morning after 'The Incident', as it was being spoken of, the last class had just finished for the day when Potions Master, Professor Severus Snape, saw a man he recognised as the father of one of his newest snakes walk in the door of his classroom.

"Lord Greengrass," drolled Snape. "To what do I owe the honour?"

"I've come to collect my eldest daughter, Potions Master; Daphne. I believe she's one of yours," said Cygnus.

"Indeed," replied Snape. "I take it this is a family matter?"

"Indeed," replied Cygnus, not clarifying the point.

"And when may we find her returning?"

"Probably, this evening; possibly, tomorrow morning before class."

Snape merely nodded and said, "I would hazard a guess she'll be in the Slytherin common room about now. I take it you remember your way?"

With a nod of his own, Cygnus replied, "Of course."

With almost a dismissive gesture, Snape said, "The password is 'cunning and guile'. I'll inform the other staff at dinner Miss Greengrass will be away on family matters until tomorrow morning at the latest."

"Thank you, Potions Master, for your consideration," said Cygnus with barely a head nod of recognition, before he turned on his heel and left the classroom, heading for the Slytherin common room.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Daphne was almost frantic with worry about what happened to 'her Harry' the evening before at the sorting. She wanted to rush over and help him when he collapsed but Tracey held her back. By the time she was able to dislodge herself from her friend's grip, the Older Years were already herding all the children away from the Hufflepuff table.

She watched - almost in horror - as Madam Pomfrey, the school Healer, worked rapidly on the inert form of her betrothed. She could feel her ring give off the occasional vibration and pulse of light, but she knew they weren't malicious attacks.

When Madam Pomfrey and one of the healers from Saint Mungo's levitated Harry's - body - off the table onto a waiting stretcher, and then hurry him out of the room, she wanted nothing more than to rush after them. However, she knew the aurors that had arrived would have blocked her from doing so.

Instead, she stayed with the other First Year Slytherins and allowed herself to be comforted by her friend.

As soon as she was able to, though, she raced to the owlery to write and send a note to her father. She found Hedwig there, looking quite distressed. When Daphne stepped into the roost Hedwig immediately flew down to land on her shoulder; she softly hooted in the girl's ear.

While she was writing a note to her father she talked to the bird. "I know you understand, girl. Something bad happened to Harry during the sorting. He's been rushed off to Saint Mungo's, I think. I need to get a message to my Dad right away about what happened. I know I can give it to one of the other owls to carry; but, I only trust you to carry something so important for me and Harry."

Hedwig gave a bit of a scoffing huff and nibbled gently on Daphne's ear as the girl wrote her note.

As soon as Daphne finished writing the letter, Hedwig flew to a lower level roost within arms reach of the girl. And Daphne quickly attached the note to the owl's leg.

Once both owl and girl were happy the note was firmly affixed, Hedwig took immediate flight out on of the many windows.

Daphne sighed as she watched the snowy, softly glowing outline of the owl disappear into the night. "Be safe, girl," she whispered. "And hurry."

As soon as classes finished for the day, she rushed back to the Slytherin dorms. She'd no sooner unloaded her books onto her bed when one of the girls in an older year poked her head in and said, "Your father awaits you in the common room, Miss Greengrass."

Daphne practically flew out of the room. And, half an hour later she was walking beside her father through the corridors of Saint Mungo's heading for what she hoped was the healthy form of her 'man'.

After being brought up short by a pair of aurors standing outside the door of a private ward to identify themselves, both Daphne and her father were allowed through. But, they'd had to get past quite a few people she recognised as probably being journalists to get there. A couple had tried to question them before they stepped through, but she ignored them all.

Inside, they were greeted by the sight of Harry lying, appearing still unconscious, on a standard ward hospital bed. Daphne was introduced by her father to both Madam Bones and Madam Longbottom, who had been standing off to the side, quietly conversing before they walked in.

As soon as the introductions were done with, though, Daphne quickly moved to the side of the bed. She took Harry's hand in one of her own and placed her other one on his shoulder.

"Oh, Harry," she cried to the sleeping form on the bed. "What have you _done_ to yourself?"

She felt the hand she was holding twitch a little, before her grasp of it was returned. Harry's eyes fluttered a little before she heard him ask in a soft voice, "D... Daphne?"

Moving her other hand to brush her fingers through his hair, she felt her heart give a leap of joy. "Yes, Harry!" she cried. "I'm here!"

She didn't notice the adults, having heard Harry respond, move closer around the bed.

Nor did she notice Madam Bones move away again and stick her head outside the door for a moment before returning.

"What did you _do_ to yourself?" the girl cried. "You gave me _such_ a fright."

"I'm sorry," he croaked out. "I - lost my temper. I - let it get away from me. I couldn't stop it."

"Harry, its Aunt Amelia," piped in Madam Bones. "You're in Saint Mungo's and you're quite safe. Just rest for a bit. I've called for one of your Healers to come and check up on you."

"Al... alright," whispered Harry.

Madam Bones moved away and indicated for the other two adults to join her.

"What in Merlin's name _happened_ last night, Amelia?" Cygnus pretty much growled. "I _know_ you've already investigated it by now."

"If you come by my office later, I'll let you watch the pensieve memories I have of the event," she replied. "For now, though, the crib notes.

"The first years, including your daughter and Harry, came in to the Great Hall, as per normal. The sorting began and students started to be sorted. The expression on Harry's face quickly turned to one of complete anger. It seems to have come when he first spied the Head Table.

"When Harry's name was called out he came forward to be sorted. However, as soon as he reached the stool, he stopped, looked at Professor McGonagall with a look of fury, and said, 'No'.

"Then he's turned around and headed back out of the Hall; stormed out, really.

"Before he's made it all the way past the tables, he's jumped up onto the Hufflepuff table - stripping himself to the waist as he did so - and proceeded to rant at the Professors; especially Dumbledore. He displayed all these scars and marks on his torso and how they were caused by Dumbledore dumping him on a muggle doorstep somewhere.

"During that rant he began to flare his magic. He suddenly screams at the ceiling. There's an almighty pulse of flared magic, which causes objects and students to be banished from around him, and he collapses.

At that point one of the Professors, Professor Quirrell, is clutching at his own head and screaming."

Hesitating for a moment, she continues, a little horrified by what she says, "That's when what appears to be a _partial possession_ is expelled from behind that scar on his forehead. By then, Harry's unconscious on the table and there's pandemonium amongst the students.

"That partial possession spirit hovers over him for a few moments before it flies at Professor Quirrell. It slams into the Professor's head before, _yet another partial possession_ is ejected from Quirrell. The two spirits merge into one and flee out one of the Hall's windows.

"Harry, meanwhile, remains lying unconscious on the table with blood and muck covering his face from the now open wound that was his scar.

"Madam Pomfrey headed straight to him, ignoring everyone else, and franticly began treatment.

"From what I've gathered so far, Harry had a very tight infant magical lock on his magic. It - shattered - allowing his magic to fly free. That caused it to pulse in a huge flare; which, in turn, caused the possession to be expelled from his body.

"His magic almost - detonated - but the flaring caused his magical reserves to drain to almost critically low levels before it did.

"Madam Pomfrey and the emergency Healers brought him here as soon as they deemed him stable to travel. Since he's been here they've managed to draw up a list of the damage to his body. The poor boy was suffering from long-term malnutrition, had multiple poorly set bones from breaks, plus a host of other problems. They've already replaced the worst set bones and have him on a strong potion regime to combat the effects of the malnutrition.

"Some of the scars on his body are too bad to deal with without excising the lesions completely and replacing them with new skin growth. The others they can treat with a salve and the scars should fade with time.

"I have no idea how his treatment at the hands of his relatives has remained undiscovered this long but, one thing I know for sure, Albus Dumbledore has just lost any claim to being his magical guardian."

"He's not," said Cygnus, interrupting.

"Sorry?" asked Amelia.

"Albus Dumbledore is _not_ legally Harry's magical guardian," replied Cygnus.

"Dumbledore claims he is," said Amelia.

"I know what he claims, Amelia," said Cygnus more firmly. "But, he's not. According to the Potter's Will, Augusta should be his guardian as Frank and Alice should have been caring for him at the time they were attacked. And, if not Augusta, then Sirius Black, then me, and then _you_.

"Harry, received a letter from his father through Gringotts when he first went into the bank just before his eleventh birthday. The letter informed him of who his guardians were supposed to be, and also instructed him to take up the Headship of House Potter on his eleventh birthday. That, he did.

"The first thing he also did was unseal the Will, which had been sealed on Dumbledore's orders, and have it read. In the Will it also stipulates who his guardians are supposed to be. Harry has the original letter, and a copy of the Will, in his Hogwarts trunk."

With an expression of cold fury, he continued, "Albus Dumbledore had _no right_ to claim guardianship of the boy. However, since he has, I want the old bastard charged with child neglect, neglect of his duties as a magical guardian, child abandonment, and conspiracy to commit child abuse. Add whatever _else_ you want to throw at him. And, I don't want to hear any of this 'For the Greater Good' nonsense.

"I also want him _immediately_ _stripped_ of any claim to be his guardian, magical or otherwise, until such time as my complaint is _fully_ investigated and _dealt with_.

"Furthermore, I want his relatives, Vernon and Petunia Dursley, investigated and charged with child neglect, child abuse, assault on a minor, and assault upon the Heir of an Ancient House!"

With a look of righteous anger on her own face, Madam Bones coldly replied, "Consider it done."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

By late afternoon, Harry was starting to come around. A Healer had already come in and was checking him over with her wand.

Harry was staring back into the reddened eyes of his betrothed while the Healer was working, with a feeling of peace and love. 'Wait a minute,' he thought. 'Where are my glasses?'

With a slight frown of confusion he reached up with his free hand to check his face. He couldn't feel his glasses. Holding his hand in front of his eyes and looking at his fingers he could see them clearly and in sharp detail.

Seeing the look of confusion on his face, Daphne asked, "What's wrong?"

"I can see," he softly replied.

"Of course you can see," said Daphne, now also confused. "Why wouldn't you be able to?"

"No," replied Harry. "I mean, I can see without my glasses. My vision's fine."

"That would be because the pressure has been taken off your optic nerves, Mister Potter," said the Healer. "With the pressure removed your magic's been able to heal and correct your eyesight."

"So, no more glasses?" asked Harry.

"No more glasses," replied the Healer with a smile.

"Oh, thanks," said Harry. "I think I'll look a bit funny without glasses, though."

"I think I prefer you without them, actually," said a smiling Daphne. "I can see your eyes better, this way."

Feeling around his face some more Harry also noticed he couldn't find the ridging of scar.

"My scar's gone, too?" he asked.

The Healer nodded and said, "Once we cleaned everything up there, and cleaned out all the gunk, we were able to excise the dead tissue, seal the wound and vanish the scar. No more scar."

"Oh. Thank you," said Harry. "I never liked that thing. It was too much of a reminder of - you know."

"No more scar means no one's going to be staring at it any more, Harry," said Daphne. "Besides, it was a blemish on your good looks. You're actually quite handsome, you know."

"Well, I would have to be to have any chance of not being thought of as your ugly betrothed now, wouldn't I?" he asked.

Daphne blushed and gave him a light smack on his shoulder. "Prat!" she exclaimed.

Thinking some more about how he felt, Harry said, "I don't feel much pain anywhere, actually. Just a little - uncomfortable inside. Even my headache's gone. I actually feel pretty good. More - alive."

"Healing potions," said the Healer. "Most of the injuries you were suffering from, old and new, we've repaired. The uncomfortable feeling you're experiencing is the healing potions still working inside your body healing the longer term damage. The feeling will pass when the potions have done their work."

"We've also given you nutrient potions; but, what we really need you to do now, is eat," she said. "Eat a lot. I'll organise a large tray of delicious hot food for you as soon as I'm done here - which, I now am."

With a smile and a final pat of his shoulder, the healer left.

Harry turned to Daphne and asked, "What happened after I - you know."

Hesitating a bit, Daphne replied, "When you collapsed there was this - dark spirit - that came out of your scar. It attacked the Professor wearing purple robes. Then it flew out the window. I found out from one of the older girls he was Professor Quirrell.

"You had this big burst of magic that sent crockery, cutlery, table decorations and some students flying. But, no one was really hurt. A couple of bumps and knocks, that's all. "

"Oh God. I'm sorry," he groaned.

"Not your fault," she firmly said. "The school healer worked on you for a bit and Madam Bones came in with some aurors. They moved all the students out of the way. Then some more healers came in. A couple helped Madam Pomfrey work on you while the others went about those students who had cuts and abrasions and healed them.

"Just as the healers were finishing up Professor Flitwick - he's the little half goblin professor - called in the house elves to clear away the mess and replace the crockery and cutlery. Professor Quirrell was levitated out the teacher's entrance a little while later. We found out, this morning, that he was dead because of a possession by the spirit of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Professor Flitwick then finished the sorting for the last half-dozen students - Weasley went into Gryffindor - and we were sent to our common rooms where the feast was served. That now makes you the only student not yet sorted. I was sorted into Slytherin, by the way; as was Tracey. If you don't remember, Neville's in Gryffindor, as is Hermione, and Susan and Hannah are in Hufflepuff.

"Dumbledore left for a while as soon as the aurors left, but came back about half an hour later, clearly upset. Professor McGonagall was upset with him for the whole time he was there; about you, I think. If looks could kill, she'd have killed him a dozen times over.

"All anyone could talk about all during the feast and right through to past breakfast, this morning, was you and what you did. Malfoy mouthed off in the common room after the feast, and Zabini punched him in the face for it."

"I tried to talk to Susan about what happened, this morning, but she didn't know anything. However, she's just as worried about you. I could see that Neville was the same.

"At lunch today, Neville came up to me and said how Weasley was going on in their dorm last night about how you were evil because you were supposedly possessed by You-Know-Who. Neville punched him and called him an ignorant idiot."

With a shrug and a wry grin, she said, "The general consensus is that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named's spirit tried to take you over and you used your powerful magic to defeat it, thus proving you're everything from the reincarnation of Merlin to the reincarnation of Grindelwald. The Boy-Who-Lived has just defeated You-Know-Who for the second time."

Harry just closed his eyes and groaned in response. "Why me?" he plaintively asked no one in particular. "As if I don't already have enough on my plate?"

Daphne smiled, leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. "I may not be a seer," she said. "But, I can already tell life is going to be very interesting around you, Mister Potter."

The three adults, by then, had finished their private discussion and came over.

"Alright, Harry," said Aunt Amelia. "I need you to tell me, in your own words, what happened last night. Specifically, I need to know why you got so angry."

Harry sighed and said, "I guess it all started back on the train platform at Kings Cross Station..."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	9. Explanations

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Nine - Explanations**

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-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"So, I'm already getting a headache from what happened on the platform, then the Weasleys irritate me, then the youngest Weasley boy tries to lie to me for whatever reason, and finally Malfoy comes to try and start something," said Harry. "I tried during the trip to meditate for a while, but I just didn't seem to get much time to do it, and the others all wanted to talk.

"I was a bit grumpy and headachy when we alighted from the train. That's when I spotted Hagrid for the first time, and recognised him as one of those who was responsible for me ending up at the Dursleys. Weasley got in my face again as we were boarding the boats and tried to shove the girls out of the way so he could hop into a boat with me.

"Once we arrived at the castle proper Hagrid banged on the doors. That's when I came face to face with the second person responsible for my - dumping; Professor McGonagall.

"She led us into an antechamber and gave us some speech about the four houses and told us to 'wait quietly'. I was about to attempt to meditate again as I could feel my anger bubbling away, when Malfoy flat out threatens me. By that point I'm furious and my headache is getting back to the uncomfortable levels I had just after I was clocked in the head the first time.

"I think Daphne could see just how upset I was getting..."

"I did," she said.

"...So she drifted closer to try and calm me down. If I'd been given another twenty minutes, or so, I think I might have been able to. As it was, I told Daphne to stick close to Tracey while I tried to centre myself and calm down. I just didn't have enough time to accomplish anything before McGonagall returned and led us all into the Great Hall.

"I was struggling to get my temper back under control. And couldn't do it. Before I knew it, I was so angry I couldn't even think straight. My 'inner voice' was raging away with negative thoughts and I was in a battle of thought-wills for dominance.

"I was so focussed on trying to stamp down my anger - my hate - I didn't even hear where any of our friends were sorted.

"When my name was called I didn't hear it. It took having my name called for a _second_ time before I acknowledged it and walked up to the stool.

"And that's when I smelled Professor McGonagall's perfume. I don't know if you know this, but a scent is a pretty powerful mnemonic - a memory aid. As soon as I caught the smell of her perfume it triggered something inside me. And I kinda lost it completely.

"I'm really sorry to everyone for that. I understand I'm in a great deal of trouble and stand ready to accept any punishment you deem just."

"Harry, you're not in trouble," said Cygnus.

"I'm not?"

"No, Harry," replied Aunt Amelia. "What happened was _not_ your fault."

Frowning, Harry said, "But, kids got hurt."

"Yes, they did," she said. "But it was because of what you were suffering, and for the first time since you were dumped on that muggle doorstep, coming face-to-face with the people who did it."

"As for what happened," said Cygnus. "You were suffering from a partial possession of a soul fragment that belonged to He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. That was what was causing you to have anger issues, was affecting your eyesight, and giving you those headaches.

"Secondly, you had an infant binding on your magic. Your anger, driven by the partial possession and being in close proximity to the ones who initiated your ten years of Dursley Hell, caused your magic to flare in a bout of accidental magic. That flare of accidental magic was powerful enough to cause the infant binding to shatter. The resultant - explosion - of magical power caused the damage around the Great Hall; and for it to also expel the soul fragment from your body.

"So, as you can understand, as you were not responsible for either the soul fragment residing inside your head, nor for having an infant binding still in place - when it should have been removed over time from the time you turned seven - you are not at fault, nor being _held_ at fault, for what happened."

"As Head of the DMLE, Mister Potter," said Aunt Amelia. "I can assure you no charges will be laid."

"Thank you," said Harry quietly.

"Now, I'm also informed you have a copy of your parent's Will in your possession in your trunk," she said. "Is this true?"

"Yes, Aunt Amelia."

"Could I have it, please?" she asked. "I believe I'm going to need it to get Dumbledore removed as your magical guardian."

"Ummm - sure," replied Harry. "Someone will have to either bring me the trunk, or take me to the trunk, though. Or Daphne. The trunk is warded so that only Daphne or I can open it."

"As you weren't sorted before what happened – happened - I have no idea where in Hogwarts it will be. Only the elves will know that," she mused.

"Elves," mused Harry before looking up. "Cygnus, could you summon Tinky, please?"

Understanding, Cygnus said, "Why didn't I think of that." He turned slightly and called, "Tinky!"

The little elf popped in to the ward and asked, "What can Tinky be doing for Master Cygnus?"

"Tinky, Harry has a request for you. I want you to carry it out, please," said Cygnus.

The little elf turned towards Harry and looked at him questioningly.

"Tinky, can you please pop over to Hogwarts, find my trunk, and bring it back here?"

"Certainty, Master Harry," it said. And with another pop it was gone.

A few seconds later and Tinky had returned with Harry's trunk. She left it at the foot of Harry's bed.

"Thank you very much, Tinky," said Harry.

The little elf said, "Welcome," before turning back to Cygnus.

"That will be all; thank you, Tinky," he said. And the little elf disappeared again.

Harry looked at Daphne and said, "Daphne? If you wouldn't mind doing the honours? The Will is tucked in between the non Hogwarts textbooks."

Daphne quickly retrieved the envelope containing the Will and handed it off to Madam Bones. She was quickly back at Harry's side holding his hand.

"That's my only copy, Aunt Amelia," said Harry. "So, I hope you'll remember to return it as soon as you can."

"Not to fear, Harry," she replied, looking down and reading the document. "You have my word. Now, if you feel up to it, I'd also like you to loan me your memory of what happened on the night of your parent's death. And how you came to be placed at the - Dursleys."

"Amelia..." grumbled Cygnus.

"No," sighed Harry. "It's alright, Cygnus. I've been expecting one of you to ask me that, ever since I learned what a pensieve was. I guess Aunt Amelia is the logical one to ask first, given her role in the DMLE."

"Do you know how to do it?" asked Amelia.

"No, I think you're going to have to step me through it," he replied. "Just give me a few seconds to pull up the memories."

Harry sat up straighter in bed and crossed his legs, Indian style, under the bedding. Settling in to a trance he was no sooner in when he popped his eyes open in shock. "Oh, my god!" he exclaimed.

"What's wrong, Harry," asked a worried Daphne.

"My mind palace looks like it's been blasted with anti-tank weapons," he exclaimed. "There's - shyte - everywhere! My defences are rubble, my libraries are scattered hither and yon, there's a bloody _crater_ where my anger cauldron was, and it looks like a war zone!"

"Language," muttered Daphne, almost unconsciously.

"I was afraid of that," sighed Cygnus. "The war zone, as you put it, is a visual representation of the damage done to your Occlumency shields when your magic broke through the infant bindings."

Turning to Amelia, he said, "I think getting his memory, any memory from him, is going to have to wait until we can get a mind healer in to help him sort out his Occlumency again."

"Agreed," sighed Amelia.

"This is amazing!" said Harry quite happily.

Frowning, Daphne asked, "You're - happy?"

Giving his head a bit of a shake, he replied, "I first learned meditation, then creating a mind palace, and then Occlumency, to help me cope with my concentration problems, my anger issues and my headaches. With everything a shambles, in there, my headache should have been almost unbearable and I'd be having trouble reining in on my anger. However, I'm having trouble with neither. They're both gone!"

"Those issues were caused by the partial possession by that soul fragment, Harry," said Cygnus. "With the soul fragment expelled, those problems should no longer exist."

"No wonder I felt so much at peace when I woke up; and have been feeling since," said Harry. "I thought it was potions doing it to me. This is great!"

"I'm glad you're happy, Harry," said Amelia. "I, for one, am very relieved that the fragment is gone."

"In the mean time," said Madam Longbottom, "I think it's high time we left the boy alone to rest."

Nodding, Cygnus said, "You are, of course, correct, Madam Longbottom." Looking back at the bed he said, "Harry, we'll organise for a mind healer who specialises in damaged Occlumency mindscapes to come and give you a hand to sort it out for you. And, Daphne; now that Harry's awake and alert, and you've seen for yourself that he's okay, it's time I returned you to Hogwarts."

Daphne gave a nod and sigh in agreement. She stood, leaned over Harry, and gave him a quick chaste kiss on the cheek, and said, "I'll see you soon."

Cygnus then led her back out the door, where she turned and gave a final wave before stepping through.

Gran looked to Harry and said, "It seems young Miss Greengrass is quite taken with you."

"And I, with her, Gran," he replied.

"Do not think I did not notice that betrothal ring on her finger. Or, that one on yours," she said with a nod towards Harry's left hand. "I take it they're paired?"

Nodding, he said, "We both kind of knew she'd be sorted into Slytherin. And I wanted to make sure she was as safe as I could make it for her. So, yes, the rings are paired."

"Sapphire and white gold," she said. "I seem to remember that was the one worn by your great grandmother Dorea. The paired rings were, if I remember correctly, a gift from your great great grandfather, Gabriel Potter, to Dorea and your great grandfather Charlus on their formalising of their betrothal. It's good to see you're following tradition."

"Well, I didn't know who last wore them; so, thank you for telling me," replied Harry, a bit uncomfortable. "I saw them in the heirloom vault and thought how the ring matches Daphne's eyes and skin tone so well. I then took them to our family jeweller and had the enchantments on them updated."

"A wise precaution," smiled Madam Longbottom.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Over the next two plus days Harry was visited by a mind healer, who used Legilimency to enter his mind and show him how to quickly repair all the damage to his mindscape. Once Harry set to work, the healer departed and left the boy to it. Then Harry spent as much time as he could working to get everything fixed.

As his mindscape was so badly damaged, Harry decided to use the opportunity to modify his palace into a stronger fortress, and then built in traps and other defences as he went. His memories he also sorted in better warded sections so, if someone managed to get through his defences, they would only be able to get to one set of his memories.

He also used phantom memories as part of his defences. So, if someone did manage to get through, they would not be sure that a memory they were able to see was, in fact, an actual memory.

His final trick was to store a copy of every memory in a dungeon vault that was only accessible through following a specific route through his palace/fortress and thinking of the correct password. He'd read up on memory charms that were designed to strip memories for someone, so prepared his defence against it in case someone attempted to use the charm on him.

Harry had all the memories in place and was working on his outer defences two days later when Madam Bones returned.

"Hello, Harry," she said by way of greeting.

"Aunt Amelia, you're looking well," he replied.

"As are you," she smiled.

"I take it you've come a-visiting to see if I'm ready to give you those memories?" he gently asked with a grin.

"Indeed, I have," she said. "But, I've also dropped by to make sure you're alright. And to let you know what's been happening for the past couple of days."

With a snort, Harry said, "Well, according to the Daily Prophet, I'm either an up and coming dark lord, I'm the poor victim of treachery by the Greengrasses, or persons unknown attacked me as soon as I stepped in the doors of Hogwarts and I'm either dead and the DMLE is hiding it or I'm at death's door."

"Yes, well, we know none of that is true," she replied with a sad smile. "How's the Occlumency rebuild coming along?"

"I'm almost finished, for now," he sighed. "On the advice of Mind Healer Whimple I used the opportunity to rebuild with better defences integrated into my mindscape."

"Good," she said, conjuring and taking a seat nearby within easy sight of him. "As for what's really happening - Dumbledore has been stripped of your magical guardianship. For now, you're now a Ward of the Ministry and fall under my direct authority.

"Your relatives, the Dursleys, have been taken into custody and will face trial before the Wizengamot. We have enough evidence from the Healer's report to lock them away for what they did to you, but I'd prefer to also have some of your memories of their treatment of you to make sure they end up going away for a very, very long time. And, hopefully, you want have to take the witness stand yourself.

"Though he has not been yet, Dumbledore will also be charged over placing you in that environment; especially, as it went against the Will of an Ancient House. Minerva McGonagall and Rubeus Hagrid have also not been charged and are unlikely to be. It seems their - crime - was to put too much faith in Dumbledore doing the right thing. I'm hoping your memories of the events will help clear up a lot that's unknown around that.

"And the final matter we've discovered is that your godfather, Sirius Black, was never given a trial over what happened on _that_ night and over the next few days. As such, he was never formally convicted of a crime. That's why the goblins told you he's the current Lord Apparent. The magic only recognises the convictions in the Book of Convictions kept for that purpose, and his name does not appear in there. Again, we're hoping your memories of that night will aid us in setting that matter to rights."

"Huh! If Black's name does then appear in the - Book of Convictions - that means, as I'm already recognised as the Head of House Potter, I'm also going to immediately become the Head of House Black. As if I don't have enough on my plate, as it is," said Harry frowning. "And what about the regencies?"

"The Wizengamot has not sat in session since this has all come to a head," she replied. "However, it's merely a formality Dumbledore will be stripped of both and the proxies annulled. As you're now a current Ward of the Ministry the seats will be left vacant until a new guardian is appointed, and _they_ decide what to do with the seats.

"We're worried the vacating of the seats will cause a - power vacuum - on the Wizengamot. And that the Minister will try to claim regency of the seats as you're a Ward of the Ministry. That would be a - problem. And I would like to hear your views on how to handle the situation. I know you're only eleven, but you're also incredibly smart and knowledgeable."

Sighing, Harry thought for a minute and said, "We know my parents assigned, in order, the Longbottoms, Black, the Greengrasses and the Boneses as my legal guardians in the event of their passing. How about we use that to force through my choice as regents?"

"Go on," she said.

Sitting up a little straighter, he said, "As Head of House Potter I want to appoint Dowager Lady Augusta Longbottom as Regent of House Potter. As Heir Apparent for the House Black, in the absence of the Rightful Head and Lord of House, Sirius Orion Black, I want to appoint Lord Cygnus Greengrass as Proxy cum Regent for House Black, as is my right as next in succession.

"I figure, no one will question me choosing Gran Longbottom as my Regent for House Potter given the incredibly long term alliance between our two houses. And I - somewhat satisfy - both sides of the divide by choosing Cygnus as Proxy or Regent for House Black. The 'Light' see Cygnus as 'Dark', the 'Dark' see him as 'Dark Grey' enough for them, and they know the 'Light' don't like him; plus, as he's the father of my betrothed and I'm forging alliances, they shouldn't fault it. By having the seats immediately refilled in that way, it negates any chance of, as you put it, a power vacuum.

"Furthermore, it will mean, of my four true guardians, Black is in prison, you have two seats already, and Gran and Cygnus will also then have two seats. I think it kind of evens things out for my guardians to all have an equally powerful political footing."

After sitting there in shock or wonder for a few moments, Amelia suddenly burst into laughter. "That's - just - perfect!" she exclaimed in glee. "And, you're right; no one could really fault it. I can't see a problem getting it past the old fuddy duddy traditionalists; and no one else will be able to argue against it; including, Dumbledore!"

Harry gave a shrug and small smile is response.

"Okay, Mister Smarty-pants!" she said, once she'd calmed down a bit. "What about who becomes your _physical_ guardian?"

Harry thought for a bit, thinking about how to broach the idea he'd developed over the past few days. Looking up, he asked, "As divorce is incredibly rare in the wizarding world, what does the wizarding world know of co-parenting?"

"It's unheard of but I understand, somewhat, how it works in the muggle world," she said, before stopping to think for a moment. "Let's see - the parents of children separate and/or divorce. The legal system then allocates parenting responsibilities as and when needed. Sometimes a child will be housed part-time with one parent, and the rest of the time with the other. Even if one or both parents remarry, the system can remain in place until such time as the concept is revisited, the child becomes of age, or one parent dies."

Nodding, Harry said, "I want to do something like that. Neville is my godbrother and, by rights, we should have grown up together as brothers. I want to - establish that - by spending a greater amount of time staying at Longbottom Hall to develop that relationship. However, I'm also now betrothed to Daphne and I need to develop a decent relationship with her; so, I still want to spend quite some time at Greengrass Estate. I would also like to spend a little time with you and Susan, occasionally, at Bones Manor.

"Doing that will mean the 'Light' families will know I'm being raised by a 'Light' family; the Longbottoms. The traditionalists will see I'm honouring the requirements of the betrothal contract, and the 'Dark' families will see I'm honouring the Blacks, by being raised by a 'Dark Grey' family; the Greengrasses. And you're in a position to provide balance from a law and order point of view.

"I don't know how to break down that into logical allotments of time; but, I'm sure we can all work something out. And the time periods I'm talking about here, now that I've started at Hogwarts, aren't all that long. In essence, you become my co-parents. That is, of course, if any or all of you are willing to have me around underfoot."

"Sweet Merlin, that's brilliant!" Amelia said softly. She took a few moments before coming to a decision of her own. "I'm definitely going to have to review this conversation through my own pensieve. Even I'm doubtful I'm going to remember this right.

"Actually," she said, thinking about it, "I'm going to bring a pensieve with me when I visit you again tonight. I'll also ask Cygnus, Isabel and Augusta to join me, I think. Then we can all sit down and discuss it before the Wizengamot session, which is likely to be held on the weekend.

In the mean time, she said, reaching into her robes, "I need those memories we discussed earlier..."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Tracey and Daphne walked side by side into the Great Hall to have breakfast still feeling a little lethargic from a midnight Astronomy lesson the night before.

Slumping onto the bench seat at the Slytherin table she dropped her head to the table top and moaned, "Why did we have to come to breakfast, again? Everyone else is still asleep."

"One, because breakfast is the most important meal of the day; and, two, because I'm expecting a letter from Harry," said Daphne, no less tired and a little cranky because of it.

"Hedwig would have known to deliver your letter at lunch if you were still asleep," grizzled Tracey. "You _know_ that. _C'mon_, as well as being Harry's personal post owl, she's also his familiar. She'd have known to wait."

"What's wrong with Tracey?" asked Susan, who'd approached and was taking seat opposite.

"_Tracey_ thinks it's _much_ too early in the morning after an astronomy lesson to be out of bed," moaned the girl in question.

"_Tracey_ didn't have an afternoon nap, as her Head of House suggested she do, early yesterday; so she wouldn't have as much of a problem, this morning," replied Daphne.

"I was talking to Blaise!" she whined back.

"And that's why Blaise hasn't joined us for breakfast, this morning," said Daphne.

With a sigh, the girl lifted her head from the table and said, "Alright. I'll have breakfast and pretend to be as chipper as Miss Bones, here. But, I'm skiving off History of Magic and going back to bed. You can come and wake me before we have Transfiguration with Professor McGonagall."

"Deal," said Daphne.

The three girls chatted throughout breakfast with Daphne constantly searching the ceiling looking for the first approach of morning owls. As such, she was the first to see them starting to stream in through the windows.

"Here she comes," she said with not a little excitement.

Hedwig came soaring in on a gentle stoop glide directly down to the table top immediately in front of the girl. Daphne, for her part, already held a piece of bacon up in her left hand, ready.

As soon as Hedwig landed Daphne was handing off her piece of bacon to the bird and immediately removed the small piece of parchment tied to the owl's harness.

Excitedly, she unrolled the parchment and began to read; absentmindedly stroking Hedwig's scalp feathers as she did.

"Harry says he's likely to be released tomorrow - meaning today, and will join us for dinner tonight," she softly squealed. "He's looking forward to being sorted and beginning his wizarding education - He'll finally be handing over his memories of _that_ night and the next to Madam Bones tomor… today - because his Occlumency mindscape and shields are back in place, better than ever - and _he misses me_!" She gave another soft squeal crumpling the parchment to her chest."

"I guess that's why Hedwig left," said Susan. "She knew you wouldn't be sending a response with her, seeing as he'll be here tonight before he'd receive it."

"Huh?" said Daphne, not even noticing that the owl had already left. "Oh!" she said, when she did.

"Well, that was exciting," Tracey deadpanned before begging, "Can I _please_ go back to bed, now?"

"If you must," sighed Daphne. "Just - be careful heading back there. I don't see Malfoy or his two goons around here. But, I suspect the three of them are still in bed, anyway."

"Yes, Mum," the girl mocked in response. She then rose wearily to her feet, collected her book bag, and left the Hall.

Turning to Susan, Daphne asked, "So, any word from your aunt about what happened on Sunday night?"

With a bit of a shrug, Susan replied, "I know she's been really busy dealing with - what she calls - the fallout of what happened. But, she's not discussed it with me. I _do_ know she's been spending a bit of time with your Dad and Neville's Gran, though. That _can't_ be a coincidence."

Before any more could be said, Professor Snape has hovering over them. "Is there a reason a Hufflepuff is sitting at the Slytherin table, Miss Bones?"

"Yes, Professor," replied Susan a little meekly.

Waiting a moment, probably expecting the girl to say why and then not, the Professor said, "Then, perhaps, if your business is concluded, you should return to your own table."

"Yes, Professor," she replied again, a little dejected, before rising to her feet and going to her own table.

Turning to Daphne, the Professor said in a droll voice, "I've noticed you make it a habit of dining with members of other houses, Miss Greengrass."

Taking a leaf out of Susan's book, she replied, "Yes, Professor."

Hovering there for a few moments longer, expecting more information and not getting it, the Professor then asked, "And was that Potter's owl I saw, once more delivering mail to you?"

"Yes, Professor."

Clearly expecting more information the man stood there for a few moments longer before he turned about and stalked away, back to the Head Table.

After he was gone, Daphne just sighed before picking at her breakfast.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	10. Sorted

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Ten - Sorted**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
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After having worked, yet again, on his mental defences after Madam Bones left earlier in the day, Harry was currently reading through the reaction tables of the potions book Daphne had suggested he read for Hogwarts. In it, it explained so much more about potions than the text recommended by Hogwarts; '_Magical Drafts and Potions_' by Arsenius Jigger. That one was more of a 'cookbook' than anything else; as it was almost full of various instructions on potions.

The companion book he was reading covered much more about care and safety when dealing with ingredients and 'potioneering'. It also answered a lot of questions about why things were done a certain way in '_Magical Drafts and Potions_'. It made sense of what appeared to be non-sensical. He wondered why it, or a similar text, wasn't also recommended.

Hearing the sound of clamouring from the hovering journalists coming from outside the door, he knew he was about to receive company. He was soon joined by Cygnus, Isabel, Aunt Amelia and Gran.

"Braved the ravening horde, once more, have you?" he asked with a cheeky grin.

Amelia snorted and replied, "Insolent whelp!" as the other three all exchanged greetings with him. Both Isabel and Gran came over to give him a kiss on the cheek before moving away again towards Amelia and Cygnus.

Amelia stopped in the middle of the room and drew forth from her pocket a shrunken crate. She then conjured a pedestal that reached waist high and placed the crate in the middle of it.

With a tap of her wand she unshrunk the crate before removing the lid.

"Cygnus, if you wouldn't mind," she said, gesturing to the contents.

Cygnus reached in and removed what appeared to Harry to be a large stone birdbath. As he held it above the crate, Amelia removed the crate from the pedestal, and allowed Cygnus to place the stone item down upon it. Cygnus then stepped away.

"Now, Harry," said Amelia, looking at him. "Drag your carcass out of that bed and come over here."

Harry hopped out of bed and walked across.

"This is a court pensieve, also known as a solicitor's pensieve," said Amelia. It's slightly larger than a standard pensieve because it has the added function of being able to project a large image over itself of the memory being reviewed. Understand?"

Harry nodded.

Amelia then reached into a pocket of her robes and brought out a wooden frame that contained half a dozen phials; four of which contained what Harry now recognised as memory strands.

"Alright, the first memory is what I collected from Professor Filius Flitwick last Sunday night," she said as she poured the contents of one phial into the pensieve. She then tapped her wand to a symbol - what Harry had come to recognise as a rune - on the top edge of the pensieve.

Harry watched with the others as the memory played like a big 3d hologram in a sphere that measured about five feet across. He winced when he saw himself snarl at Professor McGonagall before storming off. And winced again when he ripped his outer robes off and stripped to the waist as he jumped up onto the Hufflepuff table. Then winced a third time, and felt not a little horrified, when he suddenly screamed, his magic pulsed, he collapsed onto the table and the wraith-like spirit was forcibly ejected from his forehead in a bloody mess.

He then watched in shock as the wraith attacked the professor wearing a turban and joined with another coming from the professor before fleeing out one of the blown open, shattered windows. He hadn't heard the gasps of horror coming from either Isabel or Gran, as he was focussed on what he was watching.

When it finished, he dropped his face into his hands and moaned, "Oh, God; what must they think of me? No wonder the Daily Prophet's been running those stories."

"As I said before, Harry; it's not your fault," said Cygnus firmly before he was hugged by both Isabel and Gran offering their own words of support.

Amelia had already removed that memory and returned it to the phial before she poured a second one into the bowl. "This is the first of two memories from Harry of what happened the night of the 31st of October 1981 in Potter Cottage, Godric's Hollow. It is in real time and, be warned, it includes the death of Lily Potter by Killing Curse from - Vo...Voldemort. There's a short period of blank space where it appears Harry is either asleep or unconscious, Then there's what happens afterwards."

Fidgeting a bit, Harry said, "I don't want to see this. While I've - come to terms with what happened - I don't want to revisit it."

"Nor do I expect you to, Harry," replied Amelia. "We will enter the pensieve, together, using our fingers. While we do so, I expect you to stand watch over us to ensure we are not disturbed. I expect we'll be gone for about half an hour."

Harry nodded in relief and stood back.

Each of the adults placed a finger in the bowl of shimmering liquid. Amelia then tapped another rune with her wand tip and all four adults' eyes glazed over with their faces assuming a blank expression.

Harry watched them with a bit of apprehension while they stood frozen to the spot.

A little over half an hour later, after Harry had moved back to perch on the edge of the bed and keep an eye on them, all four suddenly let out gasps of shock, pulled their fingers out of the bowl and staggered back.

Cygnus and Amelia both conjured comfortable armchairs and the four of them collapsed into them.

Harry remained sitting on the edge of his bed and waited for them to say something.

The first to recover was Amelia. She'd already witnessed the memory earlier in the day.

"Flopsy!" she called. And a little house elf appeared by her side. "Could you get me four glasses and the bottle of that muggle brandy I keep for times like this?"

"Yes, Miss Ami," replied the elf before it popped away again.

It returned a moment later with a silver tray bearing four glasses partly full of a dark substance surrounding a bottle half full of the same. She offered one to each adult, starting with Gran. Amelia and Cygnus quickly tossed the contents of theirs back down their throats, while Isabel and Gran just sipped at theirs.

"Alright, then," said Amelia. "Let's review. From what we heard, James was apparently downstairs. He must've heard something because he called out to Lily 'Lily, it's him, take Harry and run, I'll try to hold him off'. Lily runs from - wherever - and runs into the nursery. Before she closes and locks the door, we see the flashes of spellfire coming from the doorway. She picks Harry up and appears to attempt to disapparate.

"She puts Harry back in the crib. She quickly casts - whatever - over Harry and the crib. Whatever it is causes both Harry and the crib to glow with a golden aura. Just as she's finished the door is blasted inwards and V..Voldemort enters the room."

Amelia quickly refills her glass from the bottle and downs another quick shot.

"Lily stands between the crib and Voldemort. He tells her to stand aside and she refuses. She begs Voldemort to kill her instead of Harry. Voldemort tells her - he's promised her to - to _Severus_. Lily is furious but still doesn't move. He then kills her. _Peter Pettigrew_ is standing cowering in the doorway.

"With Lily now out of the way he says something about Harry being the one prophesised to kill him. He fires the Killing Curse at Harry. Then it's blank.

"When Harry wakes up or comes around, it is to the sound of Severus Snape sitting on the floor holding the body of Lily, sobbing, and rocking it back and forth in his arms. Harry makes a sound and stands up in his crib. There's a fresh wound on his forehead. He begins crying.

"Snape, hearing the crying, lowers Lily's body back onto the floor and quickly stands up. He draws his wand and aims it at Harry. His arm is shaking, whether it's from grief or fury, we don't know. There's a sound from downstairs outside. It's the sound of a large motorcycle approaching. Snape flees the room.

"We then see Hagrid enter the room. He's crying. He picks up Harry out of his crib and says a few words trying to calm him down. He then carries Harry downstairs, where we see James's body on the floor just inside the blasted off front door of the cottage. Hagrid pauses for a moment to take a sad look at James before exiting the cottage.

"As Hagrid is walking away from the cottage down the front path, we see Sirius Black climb off the motorcycle and approach. He's distraught.

"Hagrid tells him James and Lily are dead. Black looks horrified and heartbroken.

"Black tells Hagrid to give him Harry and that Harry is his godson. He also mentions he is sworn to protect him.

"Hagrid refuses and says Dumbledore instructed him to take Harry directly back to him. Black hesitates for a moment, hands Hagrid a set of motorcycle goggles and tells Hagrid to take 'his' bike. And that _he_ will go after '_the bastard_' responsible.

"Hagrid gives a nod and mounts the motorcycle that Black had apparently arrived on. He tucks Harry, by the looks, into a large inside pocket. Harry is blinded by this, but we hear the motorcycle roar to life and rev away.

"Is there anything of importance I missed?" she finishes.

"Only that it was clearly _Pettigrew_ who betrayed the Potters; not Black," replied Cygnus with a snarl. "And Black said he was 'sworn to protect Harry'. If that's the case, Black _couldn't_ have betrayed the Potters, as it meant he would have broken oath."

With a little sad voice from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed, Harry asked, "So, that little fat man wasn't Sirius Black?"

All four adults suddenly looked at Harry as if they'd forgotten he was there.

As Isabel rose from her chair, walked over to Harry, sat on the bed alongside him, and wrapped him in her arms rocking him gently, Cygnus said in sad but angry voice, "No, Harry. _That_ was Peter Pettigrew. Sirius Black was the man who arrived later on the motorcycle. Trust me on this, I knew both men quite well."

"As did we," said the other adults.

"And what is also apparent is that _Severus Snape_ knew the attack was going to take place on the Potters," snarled Madam Longbottom. "Why else would - that man - say he had promised Lily to - _Severus_?"

"Further evidence to that was that _Snape_ appeared to be the first on scene immediately after it happened. And, that he'd been there for a little while before Harry woke up again," said Cygnus. "It was well known in Slytherin that Snape was absolutely smitten with young Miss Lily Evans. He'd had his eye on her since the sorting. When she began dating James during Sixth Year, he was both enraged and heartbroken. It turned him into a very bitter individual."

"What is more informative is that the Potter adults weren't the target," said Amelia. "V..Voldemort was specifically after _Harry_. _And_ that there is, or was, apparently a prophecy involved that says something along the lines of Harry will kill Voldemort."

"More questions," said Isabel from where she was comforting Harry. "_How_ did Dumbledore know to send someone? Was he, in some way, monitoring the Potters? And, if so, _why_ was he monitoring them?

"_Why_ did he send Hagrid; a man unable to even use a wand? _Why_ didn't he go himself? After all, Dumbledore was apparently the only person He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named feared. And _why_ did Hagrid say Dumbledore instructed him to take Harry directly back to him?"

"_There_'s my smart Ravenclaw," Cygnus said, almost automatically while his thoughts were clearly elsewhere.

While she was listening, Amelia had a small muggle notebook in her left hand while writing with a muggle pen with the other. "Those are all other questions that hadn't occurred to me, Isabel. Thank you," she said. "Any more?"

When she received three negative responses she closed the notebook and dropped it and her pen back into a pocket of her robes. Then drew the phials out again. She stood and scooped the memory back out, placing it back into a phial, before restoppering it.

"The next memory I have from Harry must have occurred a few hours later," she said, pouring another memory into the pensieve. "This one occurs as Hagrid is carrying baby Harry into the infirmary at Hogwarts."

"Turning to Harry, she asked, "Do you want to join us for this one, Harry?"

Straightening himself up and away from the comfort of Isabel's arms, he said, "No. Thank you, anyway. I'll keep watch again."

"Do you want me to stay out here with you, Harry?" asked Isabel.

"No, that's okay," he replied. "I'll be okay from here on."

With a hesitant ruffle of his hair, Isabel moved to stand with the others around the pensieve again.

Once again, the four dipped a finger into the bowl and Amelia tapped the rune. Once again their faces took on the glazed look Harry thought of as 'The lights are on; but, nobody's home'.

They returned less than fifteen minutes later.

With a frown, Cygnus said, "Why didn't Dumbledore discover Harry's so-called 'curse scar' was, in fact, a partial possession by a soul fragment? He's powerful and knowledgeable enough to have been able to recognise it straight away. And then _why_ did he insist on Harry being taken the next day to the Dursleys. He _should_ have been taken to the Longbottoms at the first available opportunity."

"The second half of that becomes apparent with the next memory," said Amelia. "I do not know the answer to the first, though."

While talking she scooped the memory out of the pensieve back into a phial before emptying the third, and final, of Harry's memories into the bowl.

"This memory of Harry's comes late on the next night. It's the 1st of November in a little township called Little Whinging in Surrey. The memory takes about fifteen minutes," she said.

Once more, all four adults disappeared into the pensieve. When they came out Cygnus, Isabel and Augusta were all furious.

"He _dumped_ a baby on a bloody _doorstep_ and _left_ it there?" snarled Augusta. "It was bloody _freezing_!"

Isabel turned to Harry and asked, "Are you aware of when the occupants, your relatives, finally noticed you were there?"

Harry frowned and said, "I don't know what time it was, of course. However, Aunt Petunia woke me up when she screeched. I was still in the basket and was looking up at her from the doorstep, so it must have been when she first saw me. I could see that the sky was lightening up, so it had to be shortly after dawn."

"From what he said, it was also very obvious Dumbledore had _no_ intention of finding out who the Potters wished for Harry to be raised by in the event of their deaths. _He_ had already made the decision Harry was to be raised by the Dursleys," said Cygnus, standing up and pacing back and forth on the other side of the pensieve.

"There, right _there_," said Cygnus jabbing a finger at the memory strand in the pensieve, "is all the evidence you need to see him charged and convicted with going against the Will of an Ancient House. And that's irrespective of everything else!"

"Dumbledore will just claim he was unaware of the Will," said Amelia. "And, even if we prove he was aware of it, he'll claim he believed it was the Potter's wishes Harry be raised by his closest living relatives; the Dursleys."

"_This_ is just one more example of why House Greengrass will not move to become a 'Light' House," he snarled. "As long as Dumbledore is the recognised so-called Leader of the Light, Greengrass will not be counted among their ranks."

"Well," said Augusta, chiming in with a huff. "House Longbottom is a 'Light' House but we will no longer be recognising Dumbledore as our leader."

"And the same can be said with House Bones," said Amelia.

Storming back and forth for a while, Cygnus suddenly stopped and turned to Amelia. "Right!" he said. "As Lord of House Greengrass and soon-to-be-acknowledged Regent of House Black, I hereby demand the Head of the DMLE bring forth Sirius Orion Black to stand proper trial."

With barely a hesitation Augusta chimed in. "As Regent for House Longbottom and soon-to-be-acknowledged Regent of House Potter, I demand the same."

That told Harry both were aware of the conversation he had with Amelia that morning.

"As does I, as Regent of House Bones, demand of myself, as Head of the DMLE," said Amelia.

Harry thought it was funny but recognised it was the way things were done.

"And that reminds me," said Amelia standing up. She drew forth from within her robes a small stack of parchment and carried them over to Harry.

"Harry," she said. "These are the documents that need to be submitted to the Wizengamot for Cygnus to become the Regent for House Black and Augusta to become Regent for House Potter. I need you to sign them in the places I'll indicate for you as Acting Head and Head, respectively."

She then drew a small elongated wooden box from within her robes and opened it. "Do you recognise what this is?" she asked.

"Yeah, it's called a blood quill," replied Harry. "I had to use one a couple of times when I was in Gringotts."

"Exactly," she said.

Harry took the quill and held it properly in his right hand, while Amelia sorted the documents for him. She then indicated the right places for him to sign.

When he was done he gave the back of his left hand a bit of a rub from the slight sting he was feeling within it.

"Excellent," said Amelia, as she checked over the documents and sorted them all out.

Using her wand she then created three extra copies. Each copy went to Harry, Cygnus and Augusta, respectively.

"I'll file these as soon as I get back to the office immediately after we wrap up here," she said. "It may not have been acknowledged by the Wizengamot yet, but it'll be a formality."

"It'll also depend on how fast you can get - my godfather - a trial," said Harry. "However, you may want to have his trial _after_ you get those ratified. It may be only two votes, but they may be two _important_ votes."

Cygnus snorted and said to no one in particular, "I _told_ you the boy has a canny political mind. Not bad for someone who's only been back in our world for six weeks."

Turning to Harry he gave a small grin and said, "I look forward to receiving your first letter from Hogwarts where you tell us you were sorted into Slytherin."

Augusta started and mock exclaimed, "A Potter in _Slytherin_? Oh, the horrors."

Grinning back, Harry just said, "Dorea Potter."

Augusta harrumphed and said, "Yes, but she wasn't a Potter until well _after_ she was out of Hogwarts. _I_ prefer to think she was a _reformed_ Slytherin."

Still grinning, Harry said, "Semantics."

While they were talking, a healer entered and browbeat Harry into drinking a couple more potions. Grudgingly, he downed them and immediately wrinkled his face up.

"Merlin, woman!" he exclaimed. "That would have to be the _foulest_ tasting _muck_ that's ever passed these lips!"

Cygnus couldn't help it. He burst out in laughter.

"_Well_, Mister Potter! I never!" she huffed back. "I _was_ going to let you take back the remainder of the course _with_ you. And let you self-medicate with them over the next few days.

"However, I _now_ see I'll have to send them through to Poppy Pomfrey and have her _force feed_ them to you!" Then she huffed again, spun on her heel and stormed out.

"It's not funny," said Harry with a grump to Cygnus, trying to wash the taste out of his mouth with water. "I'm convinced the woman is a closet dominatrix. I keep half-expecting her to come in here wearing skin-tight black leather and carrying a _bullwhip_! You've _got_ to get me _out_ of here. It's _inhuman_, I tell you!"

That had all the adults laughing.

"We're just waiting for the senior healer to give you the all-clear and you should be right to go," said Cygnus. "You should be back at Hogwarts for the evening meal. And, come to think of it, I think I'll stay to watch you be sorted. I'm very interested in seeing what happens."

Working in reverse of unpacking it, Cygnus and Amelia soon had the pensieve re-crated, shrunk and back in a pocket within Amelia's robes.

The three ladies left soon afterwards with Amelia heading back to the Ministry, Augusta also deciding to go with her, and Isabel heading back to Greengrass Estate to, as she put it, ensure Astoria had not burned the place down to the ground while they were away.

Cygnus hung around and was still with Harry when he was given the all-clear to return to Hogwarts. As the nurse had threatened, he discovered his potion regimen had been sent through to Madam Pomfrey on his behalf.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
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With his trunk shrunken and in his pocket, and back to wearing the standard Hogwarts uniform, Harry and Cygnus stepped out of the fireplace at The Three Broomsticks. Harry immediately fell on his butt again. He'd forgotten what Isabel had taught him.

Grumbling, he clambered to his feet and stood there while Cygnus, laughing, cleared him of soot.

Together, they then took the short walk to the main doors of Hogwarts.

As they approached, Harry became a little more agitated each step closer.

Stopping just outside the doors, Cygnus grabbed Harry by the shoulders and spun him to face him. "_Relax_!" he said. "You did _nothing_ wrong. Let them think what they want to think. It'll all blow over before you know it."

Harry just sighed and nodded. With a deep, calming breath, he squared his shoulders, gave the man a nod and turned back to the castle.

The pair of them then walked into the Great Hall just as the evening meal was being served. As they stepped through the doors, all conversation stopped and everyone stared at Harry. Some of those sitting at the closest tables of Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw even shied away from him a little. Harry had the almost irrepressible urge to make a sudden move towards some of them and shout, 'Boo!' But, restrained himself.

As they passed the whispers start up behind them. Both ignored them as they walked towards the Head Table, who were watching as they came.

When they reached a spot just shy of the step up onto the raised platform on which sat the table, they stopped.

Dumbledore said, "Ah, Harry, my boy! It's good to see you've returned to us, at last!"

Harry waited a few moments before turning to Cygnus and said, "Do you see that, Lord Greengrass? You don't even rate an acknowledgement!"

Cygnus turned back with a wry look and said in a droll voice, "I noticed."

"Oh, and welcome to you, too, of course, Cygnus," said Dumbledore, obviously recognising the faux pas. "I'm just most pleased with seeing Harry returned to us hearty and hale! Please forgive the slight."

Cygnus just returned a slight nod in acknowledgement; clearly unimpressed.

"Now, Harry," continued Dumbledore. "If you'd like to take table at Gryffindor and enjoy the evening repast with us we'll have you sorted after the meal."

"Actually, Headmaster, I'd prefer to be sorted before the meal, just as my year mates were on Sunday night," replied Harry, loud enough for his voice to carry to the first years sitting at table. "After all, it wouldn't be right for me to sit with the _Gryffindors_ for my first meal here if I end up sorted into, say, _Slytherin_?"

"Mister Potter," said Professor McGonagall, apparently scandalised. "Potter children have been sorted into Gryffindor for centuries."

"Then let us see if I manage to break that tradition before I take seat," replied Harry. "After all, the four founders imbued the Hat with the task you seem to be attempting to circumvent for a _reason_."

"_Surely_, Headmaster," interrupted Cygnus before the Professor could splutter a response. "You're not trying to _influence_ where Mister Potter will be placed, are you?"

"No, no; certainly not!" he stuttered. "I'll have the Hat and stool brought here immediately."

Dumbledore looked away for just a moment and the Hat appeared immediately in front of Harry on a stool as Professor McGonagall rose from her seat and walked around to it.

While they were waiting the Hat said, "Ah! This is a surprise. A new student to sort. I dare say Mister Potter has returned."

As Professor McGonagall lifted the Hat off the seat of the stool Harry moved forward to sit, and Cygnus moved off a little to one side.

As he was moving into place, Harry brought forth his dreams and desires to meet friends and work hard at becoming a good wizard. Everything dealing with cunning, guile, and bravery he shunted right back and locked deeply away. He allowed his intelligence to remain just below the surface.

As the hat fell on his head to his ears, he felt the presence of the Hat drift into the surface thoughts of his mind.

'_Ah!_' said the Hat. '_You _are_ Mister Potter. That was _quite_ the performance you put on during the sorting feast a few days ago._'

'_Friends! Hardwork!_' thought Harry.

'_Now, now; Mister Potter,_' chided the Hat. '_You cannot influence me that way._'

'_Hufflepuff!_' thought Harry.

The hut burrowed deeper. '_Ahhhh - I see you figured out how I sort the students,_' snarked the Hat. '_That's very clever of you. However, many have gone before you who tried to do the same. That's a Ravenclaw trait, you know._'

'_I want to make LOTS of friends. I'm very LOYAL to all my friends and family._'

'_A very _cunning_ trick to try and hide your traits. It doesn't work, you know. I can always find the truth._' smirked the Hat. '_You would do well in Slytherin, you know!_'

'_I'll smother Malfoy with his own pillow in his _sleep_, if you do that! The guy would have me irritated with him enough to do it within the first month_' snarked back Harry. '_And what the bloody hell were you _thinking_ putting that blonde ponce in Slytherin, anyway. The guy behaves like such an _idiot_ Gryffindor I expect to see him sprouting a mane! No, Hufflepuff's the House for me._'

'_Hmmm - Not Gryffindor, either; even though that's where the Headmaster wants you sorted,_' mused the Hat.

'_What - the goat naffer wants me in the House of the cannon fodder? The House of - oooh look, it's a dragon! I think I'll just charge the thing with this here sword! Nothing can go wrong, right? Too bloody stupid to be sorted into a better House, that lot._'

The Hat mentally chuckled before Harry could 'feel' it rummage some more, '_Yes, you do want to make friends, you _definitely_ know the meaning of hard work, but you currently lack loyalty. And you don't need to work hard when it comes to your studies, do you?_'

'_Yes, I am! And, yes, I can!_' screamed Harry.

'_No, your dominant _defining_ trait is your eidetic memory and your ability to wield it,_' said the Hat, more seriously. '_Plus, you have wit to _spare_. Therefore, your House better be..._' "RAVENCLAW!"

As he felt the Hat removed from his head, Harry heard the Hat say, '_Good luck, Mister Potter!_'

Turning to Cygnus he smirked and winked. Cygnus grinned back, slowly shaking his head.

He then called out, "Just so you're aware of it, my Lord; the Hat just informed me the Headmaster attempted to influence it to sort me into Gryffindor."

"Did he, just?" asked Cygnus back, glaring at Dumbledore. "Attempting to subvert the sorting process, Albus?"

Dumbledore just scowled and refused to answer.

As Harry hopped off the stool and started to walk towards the Ravenclaw table he received a light smattering of applause from his new Housemates.

Cygnus walked over to where Daphne was sitting at the Slytherin table, gave her a quick peck on the cheek, and whispered something into her ear. Whatever it was it made her grin from ear to ear and look across at Harry, who smirked back.

As Harry, was about to dig in to the food sitting before him, he watched as Cygnus walked out of the Hall giving Dumbledore a bit of a jaunty wave as he turned back down the centre aisle.

"So," said Harry to his year mates, as he was loading a plate. "What did I miss? And, can someone loan me a class schedule?"

"How about you tell us what the _bloody hell _happened on Sunday night, _first_?" asked one of the boys. "You scared the _willies_ out of everyone; you know that?"

Thinking how to broach the subject for a few moments, Harry loaded his plate. "Remember how I _used_ to have a scar right up here?" he asked, pointing to his forehead.

"One of the boys looking closely at his forehead said, "Yeah, it's gone now, though."

"Right," said Harry. "Well, _apparently_ there was an itty bitty piece of Voldemort's soul lodged within it that was a holdover from when I _supposedly_ blew him up.

"Secondly, I had a major burst of accidental magic that caused an infant binding on my magics to shatter. The shattering of that infant binding - which _should_ have been removed by Dumbledore when I was about seven, so it's not surprising it shattered when I walked into such a magically charged environment as the Great Hall - caused the tiny soul fragment to be forcibly ejected from behind my scar."

With a shrug, he said, "It was as simple as that."

"It was a lot more than that!" another said. "What was all that about when you screamed at the Headmaster and McGonagall?"

"That was the matter that caused me to get angry in the first place," said Harry. "You can read all about that, hopefully, in tomorrow's Daily Prophet."

"Just give us the highlights," one of them said. "After all, we have to share a dorm room with you. I don't want to discover you trying to kill me in my sleep."

Harry sighed and said, "My anger is solely directed towards Dumbledore, McGonagall, Snape and Hagrid. And it has to do with how I was raised. You lot have nothing to fear from me."

"Unless you get angry with one of us!"

"That won't happen," said Harry quite calmly. "My anger was exacerbated by the soul fragment giving me a blinding headache. Now that it's gone, so have my headaches. Now, can I _please_ eat? You can ask me questions when I'm done."

Before another question could be asked, Harry shovelled a forkful of roast lamb covered in mint gravy into his mouth.

That didn't stop one of the girls from asking him a question. Instead of answering, Harry just pointed to his chewing mouth and cocked an eyebrow at them, before turning back to his meal.

"Oh, leave him alone," said a voice Harry recognised. "Let the poor boy eat. He's right, you know. You can ask him questions back in your common room after the meal."

Sitting behind him at the Gryffindor table he spied Hermione. He gave her a little wave before returning to his plate. There were no more questions.

When he was done, and had stuffed the last piece of treacle pie into his gob that he could, the dishes, plates and cutlery were all whisked away.

"Alright," said the girl who had asked the previous question. "How about you answer my question now?"

"How about we wait until we get back to the common room as Hermione suggested?" Harry retorted. "Dumbledore's about to speak."

Dumbledore had stood and walked around the Head Table as Harry was being pestered for the second time. Then he stepped up to a podium and said, "Now that our bellies are full I have only a single announcement before I send you all off to bed. Last Sunday night, one of our own, Harry Potter, took a nasty turn and had to be rushed off to hospital under Madam Pomfrey's expert direction.

"I hope that you have by now forgiven him of his actions and can welcome..."

Harry had stood when he heard the word 'forgive'. "Excuse me?" he called back. "Forgive for what? You make it sound like it was _my fault_; when, I assure you, it most certainly was _not_!"

"Errr - Harry?" stuttered Dumbledore. "Perhaps, I made a poor choice of words there. Please, take a seat and I..."

"_There_ you go again," said Harry. "'_Perhaps_' you made a poor choice of words? There was no '_Perhaps_' about it. Try again, please, Headmaster."

"Errr - yes," said Dumbledore with a frown. "Please take a seat so I can finish my announcements and you can all go to bed."

Harry sat back down and frowned back at the Headmaster.

"Anyways," said Dumbledore. "Now that Mister Potter has recovered from his ordeal, I hope you can all welcome him back amongst you. Thank you.

"Now, off you trot; toodley pop!"

Harry brushed the few flecks of food off his robes, he'd managed to cause land on himself while eating, and followed the rest of the Ravenclaws out of the Great Hall. He needed to find the Ravenclaw tower by being led there first. Once he knew where it was he'd be able to find it on his own in future.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	11. Confrontations

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eleven – Confrontations**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry had just been shown which bed was his, had removed his shrunken trunk from a robe pocket, placed the trunk in the middle of the floor and unshrunk it before levitating it and moving it to the foot of his new bed, when one of the older Ravenclaw boys walked in with a note. He thought the boy's name was Carmichael.

Opening the note he saw it was written in Daphne's hand.

_H_

_Meet me in the Entrance Hall. Now._

_D_

Harry stuffed the note into his pocket and said to the other boys in the room all waiting on him, "Sorry guys, it appears I've just been summoned. I'll be back as soon as I can."

He rapidly left the dorm and made his way back to the common room where a whole bunch of Ravenclaw students were waiting for him.

"Sorry guys, I've just been summoned by someone. I'll be back as soon as I can. I shan't be long," he apologised before ducking out the common room door and dashing down the stairs.

A few minutes later, after a quick dash through the corridors and down stairs, retracing the way he had climbed up to the tower, he was in the Entrance Hall. Daphne was waiting for him.

She softly said, "Follow me" before walking off. She walked through a door that was on the same wall as the antechamber he'd waited in before the sorting. Closing the door behind them, Harry found a short corridor lined with doors.

Daphne spun on her heel until she was facing him and launched herself at him in what Harry was coming to call a grapple-hug. "I missed you. I was so worried about you," she said into his shoulder.

"And I've missed you," said Harry, unsurprised he meant it. "Hospital was boring. All I could really do was spend time on rebuilding my Occlumency mindscape and shields again; and read my school texts. At least this time I was able to build them from the ground up with some pretty wicked defences.

"Now, more importantly, what's been happening with you while I've been away?"

"Well, it's now common knowledge that I'm betrothed. The ring saw to that pretty quickly. However, I've kept Mum about to whom. I don't think we could or should keep it a secret for much longer, though.

"I'm sharing a dorm with Tracey and two other girls named Millicent Bulstrode and Pansy Parkinson. Parkinson's a Malfoy lackey and I think he and she might be betrothed, too. Millicent's a nice girl, a bit overweight, and I think she lacks a friend.

"Of the rest of those who were with us on the Express, Susan and Hannah are together in Hufflepuff, and Neville and Hermione are in Gryffindor - But, I've already you told you that, haven't I? You're the only one in Ravenclaw. So, the seven of us are pretty evenly split. Susan and I try to sit together, occasionally, but Snape sends her away if she sits at our table. And, if I try to sit anywhere else, Snape soon comes over and orders me back to the Slytherin table. And I met up with Hermione and Neville in the library, at one time, and we talked a bit before the librarian threw us out."

"Hmm..." mused Harry. "Well, there's nothing in the rules that say you can't sit at another table during mealtimes unless it's the Sorting Feast or the Leaving Feast. And there's specific reasons for those two feasts. More to the point, the rules suggest you _should_ sit at other tables occasionally as it promotes inter-House fellowship.

"I think I might join you for breakfast at the Slytherin table, in the morning. If you want to come out openly about the betrothal that may be the perfect opportunity to do so. I want to put a stop to anyone trying to stop us sitting together for meals before it starts."

"Actually, I think that's a great idea," said a beaming Daphne. "I'll let Tracey know tonight, so she knows what to expect."

Thinking a bit, Harry said, "Alright. But, could you please go to the owlery and send a message to Neville and Susan we're going to do that? And ask Neville to inform Hermione and Susan to let Hannah know?"

With a bit of an amused snort he said, "I left the common room full of Ravenclaws waiting to quiz me about what happened on Sunday night. So, I have to get back there pretty soon or they're likely to burn me at the stake."

Giggling, Daphne said, "Well, we can't have that. I'll send the two owls - plus, I'll send one to Daddy. You'd best head back to the raven's rookery."

She then leaned back in and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek before they both exited the passageway back into the Entrance Hall. From there, both headed up with Harry branching off to head across to the Ravenclaw tower while Daphne headed to the owlery.

After answering the ridiculously easy riddle at the stone raven guarding the entrance to the Ravenclaw common room, Harry entered to find most of the House sitting or standing around and waiting for him.

"Sorry about that," he said, before moving to prop himself against one of the study carousels near the wall opposite the large fireplace.

"Now," he said a little loudly. "Who wants to know what?"

He was suddenly assailed by questions from all sides.

Suddenly, a louder, older, male voice rang out, "_Silence!_"

The room very quickly quieted down. Harry could see one of the prefects walk over to him before he turned and said, "If you can't raise your hands and wait to be called upon, perhaps Mister Potter should just tell us, in his own words, what happened, alright?"

When no one disagreed Harry said, "Right, then. From the beginning..." and proceeded to tell them as much as he could starting with what happened the night his parents were murdered. He left out a lot that dealt with the new information about Pettigrew and Black, and about staying at the Greengrasses, but most everything else was included.

When it came to what happened on the previous Sunday night he covered it as well as he could. When he was finished he asked for questions.

"So you weren't actually possessed, then?" one young girl asked.

"No. As I said, the piece of Voldemort's soul was wedged between the skin of my forehead and the bone of the front of my skull. That's as far as it ever got and was locked in there."

"How come it wasn't forced out when you had previous bouts of accidental magic?"

"It's believed - and they're still researching this - that the piece in me was linked to the larger piece that was possessing Professor Quirrell and was being drawn to it when we came into close proximity to each other. Then, when the infant binding on my magic - shattered - my now much more powerful magic forced the piece in me out.

"And, yes folks, it's completely gone. That's why my scar is also gone." Harry lifted up his fringe so they could all see there was no longer a scar on his forehead.

"You were really treated that horribly by those muggles?"

"That's where all the scars come from, yes. And those scars are from the beatings and whippings that _didn't_ fade away over time. Believe me, they're only a fraction of what I went through."

"But all the books say you grew up in a castle and had lots of adventures, and stuff."

"All those books are nothing but blatant flat-out _lies_!" he said a bot heatedly before he took a moment to calm himself again. "My new guardians will soon be taking action against the authors and publishers of those books and taking each and every one of them to court for slander. If you _have_ any of those books, I suggest you contact your parents to take them back to the bookshops from where they were purchased and demand refunds."

"How come you're not wearing your glasses?"

"It was found that the soul fragment was causing the problem with my eyes that required me to wear spectacles. With the soul fragment gone the healers at Saint Mungo's were able to fix my eyes. Therefore, I no longer need them."

"What about the rings on your fingers?"

Indicating his right hand by lifting it up, he said, "This one is the Head of House ring for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. I accepted the Headship of House Potter on my eleventh birthday as per the instructions of my late father."

Switching hands he said, "This one is a betrothal ring paired to another. And, before you ask, I'm not going to tell you, tonight, to whom I'm betrothed. However, it's a surprise you will find out tomorrow morning at breakfast. As for why I'm betrothed; my father and another man became drunk as skunks one night and, as a lark, decided to betroth their infant son and daughter. However, they signed the betrothal contract in blood; which means it's unbreakable.

"Now, while I was rather miffed to discover, just before my eleventh birthday, that I was locked into a marriage contract with someone I hadn't even _met_ at that time, I am _very_ happy to say we both have come to terms with it and find we've become quite enamoured of each other in a very short amount of time.

"I do not know if that's because of the magic of the contract or not. But, I find myself not caring one way or the other. I am, however, very happy to discover I've gone from being an orphan with no family to speak of, to now being part of a _new_ family, and treated as if I'm adopted by them."

It was getting pretty late, so the Prefects called an end to the talk and hustled all the First Years, including Harry, off to bed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning Harry met Hermione and Neville in the grand staircase as he was about to descend towards the Great Hall, when Hermione raced up to him like a bushy-haired missile and grapple-hugged him.

She quickly released him and stood back, then said, "Sorry, Harry. But, we were all really worried about you. It's good to see you back. I've read those books you gave me and want to know if you have any others. And I hope you really _are_ alright."

"Wow!" said Harry. "Information all over the place there. Let's see if I can respond to each."

Pausing a second he said, "That's okay. Thank you for worrying; it shows you care. Thank you. Yes, I do; and yes, you can borrow them. And, yes, I'm really alright."

Hermione stood there blinking in confusion for a few seconds as Neville snickered a little, before Harry could see her work through his responses. When she was done, she looked at him and grinned. "Sorry," she said a bit sheepishly. "That really _was_ all over the place, wasn't it?"

Harry grinned back and nodded. He then asked, "Now, perhaps you can tell me why I've discovered, over the past couple of weeks, that young ladies have apparently decided they can run at me, grab me, and then proceed to hug the stuffing out of me."

With a matching grin she replied, "Well, I don't why you've only just discovered this, Harry. But, you're a pretty 'huggable' bloke, alright?"

With a bit of a shrug Harry said, "Well, I suppose so." Changing the subject he asked, "Are you coming down to breakfast? I promise to put on some pretty good entertainment for you. Since you've read those two books I loaned you, you should be able to easily enough follow what gets said and done."

"Alright," she said, a little confused.

As they approached the doors of the Great Hall, Harry softly said to both Neville and her, "I'm going to sit you at the Hufflepuff table with Susan and Hannah for breakfast. And, yes, you're allowed to do that. It's in the rules. I'm going to be sitting at the Slytherin table with Daphne and Tracey. Sitting with Susan and Hannah will get you close enough to have a ringside seat of the entertainment when it starts."

"You're not out to get into trouble, are you?" asked Hermione, a little worriedly.

"Yes," replied Harry. "However, I actually won't be. Someone's in for a very rude surprise."

When they walked into the Great Hall, Harry, followed by Neville, led Hermione over to the Hufflepuff table. Susan and Hannah were already there and wearing wide grins.

Daphne had also arrived earlier and she and Tracey left a spot at the end of the Slytherin table. As Harry approached, Daphne subtly indicated to him the free spot for him to sit right next to her. Harry plonked himself down and, without a care in world, proceeded to happily make a breakfast for himself.

He was busily hoeing into a poached egg on toast with a side of bacon and calmly talking to Daphne between bites, when Professor Snape finally had enough and stormed over.

"Potter," he sneered. "What are you doing sitting at the Slytherin table?"

"Eating, Professor Snape; and talking to these two lovely ladies," he calmly replied, before returning to his breakfast.

"Go back to your own table, Potter," snarled Snape. "You're _not_ welcome at the Slytherin table."

"_Excuse_ me?" growled Harry.

"You heard me, Potter," Snape almost yelled. "Go back to your own table! And that will be twenty points from Ravenclaw for your cheek."

Changing targets to Daphne, he sneered contemptuously "And you, Greengrass; I would expect better of you than to mix with the likes of Potter."

Harry paused for a few seconds before carefully placing his cutlery down on his plate. Then he slowly stood in place and glared right back allowing his magic to flare as he did so - something he practiced while in hospital.

Snape at least had the gumption to only take half a pace back.

"Potions Master Professor Severus Tobias Snape!" barked Harry loud enough for the entire Hall to hear. "You are interfering with the betrothal practices of not one - but _two_ - Noble and Most Ancient Houses..."

That made the man blanch a bit. The Hall was now dead silent. Not even moving cutlery could be heard as everyone watched the drama unfold.

"...You will _immediately_ apologise to my betrothed, Miss Daphne Ophelia Greengrass, _Heiress_ Presumptive of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass; and _myself_, Mister Harry James Potter, _Head_ and _Heir Apparent_ to the Lordship of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter; or I shall be _forced_ to act accordingly, _as per the old ways_!"

Snape visibly flinched and paled. Harry almost expected him to pass out. He heard from just along the Slytherin table a male voice softly mutter, "Oh, bloody hell!"

Keeping an eye on the man out of the corner of his eye, Harry saw that as soon as Dumbledore heard 'betrothal practices', the old man rapidly got to his feet and began to hurry over. He arrived just as Harry said 'old ways'.

"Now, Harry..." he began.

Harry, already knowing the old man was going to stick his beak in, was ready for him.

Snapping his head around to glare at the Headmaster, he barked, "Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore of the Minor House of Dumbledore! You will _not_ interfere in the business of two Ancient Houses. _Back off_ or also face the consequences!"

Dumbledore, no fool, did actually back up a couple paces. However, he immediately turned to Snape and rapidly said, "Now, Severus; you really must apologise. What you did was wrong and against the school rules. There is _no_ requirement for students to sit at their own House tables for _any _meal except the Sorting and Leaving feasts. I'm immediately reversing the points you took from Mister Potter as they were uncalled for. Now, apologise so we can be done with this matter."

As soon as Dumbledore backed up Harry immediately swivelled his glare back to Snape. He remained staring unblinking at the Potions Master while Dumbledore rapidly spoke.

It took a few seconds after Dumbledore finished speaking before Snape finally muttered with a snarl, "I apologise."

Harry waited a beat or two before he roared back, "That was not acceptable! You will provide a proper apology that reflects the severity of your crime!"

A few moments more and Dumbledore softly said, "Severus..."

"I apologise to both you and Heiress Greengrass, Heir Potter!" Snape half-snarled a little louder. "My words were ill-thought and rude. I retract them, unreservedly!"

Harry paused for a long moment before turning to look down at Daphne. "Lady Daphne?" he softly asked.

Daphne gave a gentle nod in response, her face a mask.

Harry turned back with full glare at Snape and said in voice only slightly lower than his original bark, "Accepted!"

Snape immediately spun on his heel and stormed off out of the Hall.

Harry was about to sit down when Dumbledore said, "Now, Harry..."

"What _is_ it, Headmaster?"

"Was that _really_ necessary, Harry?" Dumbledore asked in a disappointed-grandfatherly voice with a similar expression affixed to his face.

"Yes, Headmaster, it clearly _was_! If you had done your duties as Headmaster properly, and _not_ been remiss in counselling your staff on what was considered proper behaviour and decorum when dealing with the student body, then it probably would _not_ have been necessary," barked Harry. "As it is, you can rest assured that both Lord Greengrass and Regent Potter will be formally notified of what occurred here this morning. I daresay they will have their _own_ words to add to this matter!

"Now. Will that be all, Headmaster? I am attempting to spend time with my betrothed before classes, and my breakfast is getting cold."

Dumbledore gave a brief nod before he, too, left the Hall. However, his departure was a little more dignified.

As soon as he was gone, Harry plonked himself back down on the bench and said in a normal voice, "Now, where were we?" Noises of students talking to each other over what happened rose in volume quite quickly.

Daphne just looked at him, leaned in and placed a kiss on his cheek, and sat back with a grin. "Damn, Potter! You really know how to impress a girl."

"And I didn't even have to point out that school rules do not forbid students from sitting at the tables of other Houses. Dumbledore did it for me," said Harry. "Hopefully, enough people heard it for Snape not to be able to snarl at students about it ever again. Which, of course, was the whole point of the exercise. Win win!"

Both girls giggled while Harry turned back to his breakfast.

A few minutes later, Harry was approached by Professor Flitwick, who dropped a copy of Harry's class schedule on the table before him. He also heard the Professor whisper to him, "That was a nice bit of theatre, Mister Potter. Very well done."

"Thank you, Professor," replied Harry with the same level of whisper. "I apologise that it was necessary."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry felt his first class in Transfiguration was a bit of a waste of time. He'd already practiced transfiguring objects while he was living at The Leaky Cauldron and studying the texts. So he alternated his attention between transfiguring a match into a needle and back again, and writing up the short letter about what had occurred at breakfast he was sending Cygnus, together with a copy of his memory of the event.

He made sure not to mentally call Hedwig to collect the letter and memory phial until he was sitting in the Great Hall again, enjoying morning tea. He wanted as many people as possible aware he was sending a letter, and let them assume it was the written formal complaint.

There were many eyes watching as the large snowy owl glided down from the rafters to softly alight in front of him with a minimal of wing movement. As Harry attached the note and phial to the owl, it stood almost stock still in front of him with it's leg cocked forward. Hedwig was playing up to the audience, and loving every moment of it.

"Show off!" Harry whispered to her with a grin.

She softly hooted in reply with her muted bark that he now knew to be laughter.

Packages properly secure, Harry placed his arm for Hedwig to mount. He then aided her in regaining flight by gently lofting her upwards. She soon disappeared back up and out the owl windows at the peak of the Great Hall ceiling.

After morning tea was a free period so, instead of sitting around and doing nothing, he decided to attend a class for History of Magic. It took him only a few minutes to realise the ghost teaching the class was practically reciting whole passages out of the text book on the subject. He simply drew forth a clean sheet of parchment and proceeded to write a letter to Gran letting her know the gist of what happened at breakfast, and that he'd sent a copy of the memory of the event to Cygnus. He'd let them work out how to share the memory between them if Gran wanted to see it.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

While Harry was sitting in History of Magic class, Severus Snape had stormed into the Headmaster's Office.

"Thank you for coming, Severus," twinkled the old man. "I wanted to discuss with you..."

"That arrogant little brat embarrassed me in front of the entire school!" the Potions Master yelled, interrupting.

With an angry glare back, Dumbledore said, "You embarrassed _yourself_, Severus!"

Hesitating a moment, Dumbledore said, "When we reviewed together your memory of the events of the sorting, it was _you_ who indicated the boy was wearing a male betrothal ring on the ring finger of his left hand similar to what James wore when he was first betrothed to Lily. It was _you_ who indicated a very similar ring on the same finger of Miss Greengrass when you noticed how focussed she was on the boy. And, it was _you_ who suggested they were possibly betrothed.

"Granted, it is _indeed_ surprising Harry is aware of the laws surrounding betrothals, or that there are special dispensations when either party is an Heir. I fathom Lord Greengrass has been educating the boy. However, you are _just_ as aware of the laws and yet _you_ decided, in your anger towards all things Potter, to interfere in what was clearly a time for them to get to know one another."

"The boy should _not_ have been aware of..." the Professor tried again.

"_Enough!_" snapped Dumbledore, slamming the palm of his left hand down onto the flat surface of his desk. "It does not matter whether or not Harry was aware of the laws. _You_ were, and yet you _still_ chose to interfere!"

The Potions Master just glared back with his lips pressed together in a firm line.

"I am going to have to do a great deal of politicking and calling in of favours to try and get you out of this mess, Severus," said the stern Headmaster. "As you are no doubt aware, because Harry is a minor, Lord Greengrass can overturn Harry's acceptance of your apology. I've also just been made _rudely_ aware, that Harry has filed Regency papers to have Augusta Longbottom become his Regent. So, she too, can overturn the apology.

"As of this moment, either of those two aged warriors have it within their grasp to legally declare blood feud on you and kill you."

Startled, Snape said, "I..."

"So, you'll forgive me," said the Headmaster interrupting right back in a low but angry voice, "if I have no tolerance for one of your churlish rants, this morning.

"I was about to put in motion efforts to have Harry's magical guardianship and regency returned to me. However, after your little snit, this morning, I have to abandon those plans! Instead, I now need to direct all my attention and resources towards saving your _life_. If I am miraculously lucky, I may even be able to save you your job! At this moment, I cannot see how I'm going to accomplish that."

Snape motioned to, yet again, speak but was cut off before he could utter a sound.

"You are to ensure you review all school rules and procedures before the end of the day," said Dumbledore. "From this moment forth, you are to issue and dock points rigidly within the rules and with complete fairness. Your bias against Gryffindor House is at an end. Your favouritism of Slytherin House is at an end. Your verbal abuse of the students is at an end. And you will comport yourself as a professional educator at all times. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Headmaster," the Potions Master replied with reluctance.

"Then, you may go, Severus," said the Headmaster, leaning back in his chair.

Without another word, the Potions Master spun on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind himself.

After he had left, the portrait of Headmaster Dippet said, "It's _about time_ you reigned in the greasy bat!"

Dumbledore's countenance took on a look of weary pain.

"For far too long you've allowed that man to completely ruin the reputation of this _fine_ institution," the portrait continued.

"Armando," said Dumbledore wearily. "Now is not the time."

"It's never '_the time_' with you, is it, Dumbledore?" said the portrait of Dexter Fortescue. "The reason we hang here is to provide you with our wise counsel and advice. But, you _never_ listen! We _all_ told you ten years ago that man was going to be nothing but an ongoing problem, and that is what he is."

"Enough!" said Dumbledore, irritably.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At lunch Harry and Daphne were sitting together at the Ravenclaw table with Hermione opposite.

The young boy Harry now recognised as Anthony Goldstein finally seemed to develop the courage Harry was watching him build during dinner. He asked, "Ummm - H.. Heir Potter?"

"Call me Harry, Anthony," replied Harry calmly.

"Alright. Ummm - Harry?" he tried again. "That - thing - you were - saying to Professor Snape..."

"Yes?" Harry knew what he was going to ask, but allowed the boy to find his own way there to ask it.

"When you were yelling at Professor Snape, you mentioned something about betrothals - and Noble and Ancient Houses - and well - I don't understand what it was all about."

"Ah!" said Harry. "You were muggle-raised, yes?"

"Yes, just like you," Anthony shot back. "But, I didn't understand what any of that meant. Though, it was clear it was _very_ important."

"It was," replied Harry.

Thinking a bit, he turned more towards the boy and said, "I'm not trying to be rude, but it's clear you know very little about the Noble and Ancient Houses and their role in wizarding society, yes?"

"Yes."

Harry also noticed he had quite a few others also now listening in on his explanation.

"I'm not having a go at you about it, alright," he said gently. "However, now that you're a part of wizarding Britain - even though you're just a student for now - you really need to understand the laws, customs and etiquettes of this society you now find yourself within.

"There is a great deal that is similar to the muggle world, but there are some very important - facets - that are unique to this world. What happened this morning was one of those.

"In the muggle world you have titled people and they're called viscounts, counts, earls, barons, dukes, et cetera. And those noble ranks all lead up to Her Majesty, correct?"

Anthony nodded.

"Alright, in the wizarding world you have a similar system, but they're based around Houses," explained Harry. "In order, you have the unhoused, then the recognised magical houses, the minor houses, the elder houses, the ancient houses and the _most_ ancient houses. With me so far?"

"Yeah, I've got that."

"Right, and some of those houses go further and are recognised as noble houses. There are the Noble and Ancient Houses and the Noble and Most Ancient Houses. The Potters and the Greengrasses are both Noble and Most Ancient Houses. Both houses sit at the top of the titling 'food chain', so to speak. Still with me?"

"Yep."

"Now, within each house there is a Head of House. That's the person who is the ranking member of that house. The Head of House, for a noble house, is recognised as either Lord or Lady; or both if there's husband and wife. However, unlike in the muggle world, a minor cannot be a Lord or Lady of the House. At those times there's always a Regent who acts as both the guardian of the underaged Head and representative on wizarding Britain's parliament, the Wizengamot. Alright?"

"Alright, I understand so far..."

"Below the Lord or Lady of the House there are the Heirs and Heiresses. I am the last remaining Potter so I became Head of House Potter on my eleventh birthday. As I am also underage, and _will_ become the next Lord Potter once I reach my majority, or am emancipated earlier, I'm recognised as the Heir Apparent. No one can take the title away from me.

"In Daphne's case, she is an Heiress of House Greengrass. Her father is the current Lord Greengrass and he has designated her as his Heir. As such she is Heiress Presumptive. She is not Heiress Apparent because her father has the right to change his mind and designate another as his Heir. Still with me?"

"Yeah, you're explaining it pretty well," replied Anthony.

"Thank you," replied Harry graciously. "Now also amongst the Houses there is a very old tradition relating to marriages that is not often used anymore. They're known as betrothal contracts. And they were used, just as they were in the muggle world centuries ago, to marry off daughters to sons of different Houses, to create formal alliances between said houses; or to, unbeknownst to them, spread the gene pool around. This was usually done with sons and daughters who were not Heirs. It was rare for actual Heirs _and_ Heiresses to be involved. It was usually one or the other.

"However, what we have here between Daphne and I is a binding betrothal contract between the next Lord of one Noble and Most Ancient House and the current Heiress Presumptive of another such House. If betrothal contracts were still common, what we have here would still be considered quite rare and astounding. I would not be _too_ wrong if I was to say that such a betrothal has not been seen for many, many centuries."

"Wow!" the boy exclaimed.

"Indeed!" smiled Harry. "Now betrothal contracts are something of which no other House will dare interfere. Actually, no other _person_ should dare interfere. The Houses involved will look very poorly on anyone who even _attempts_ such a heinous act. It is considered both the height of insult and considered an attempt, at our level, of interfering in the rules of succession of a House. Wizard duels to the death have been commonly fought over such; and blood feuds that led to the utter eradication of a House, or Houses, were not unheard of."

"Oh - my..." Harry heard a young girl's voice softly say.

"There are many laws in wizarding Britain that have been around for centuries," continued Harry. "One of those laws still in place gave me the right to bring challenge against Professor Snape for his - transgression. I was fully within my right to _kill him_ where he stood. Plus, as I am currently a minor, I could have called on both my current regent, and Lord Greengrass as the Head of my betrothed's House, to supply me with a champion to duel Professor Snape to the death in my place.

"While I forced Professor Snape to apologise for his words and tone, this morning - and I accepted it - my regent or Lord Greengrass may still take exception, overturn my acceptance of the apology, and kill him in either a wizard's duel or via blood feud.

"Both Snape and Dumbledore cannot claim they did not know of the betrothal, either - even though I suspect they will attempt to do just that - because Daphne has been wearing my betrothal ring since before she even arrived here for the sorting; as have I. And, though Snape is a half blood, he was raised in the wizarding world. He _knows_ what the rings signify.

"At this moment, until Regent Potter and Lord Greengrass decide otherwise, Severus Snape stands on shaky ground. If my read of Lord Greengrass's mood concerning our beloved Potions Master is accurate; and I believe it _is_ based on recent discussions I had with him before he escorted me here yester-evening; then he has received my owl I sent him earlier today, and is currently ordering his house elves to polish his wand and press his duelling robes. Severus Snape is, if Lord Greengrass is of such a mind, currently a dead man walking.

"Right now, I can guarantee you, Dumbledore is doing everything he can within his power to try and protect _Mister_ Snape from the consequences of his actions. Snape will only live if both Regent Potter and Lord Greengrass allow it, and reparations are paid and concessions are made. Right now, Dumbledore will be calling in a lot of his favours amongst the other members of the Wizengamot, and the Ministry, and will no doubt accede to any and all requests Regent Potter and Lord Greengrass make of him in exchange to spare Snape's life.

"Lord Greengrass and Regent Potter must currently feel like six-year-olds on Christmas morning faced with a veritable _mountain_ of wrapped gifts all bearing their names."

"Holy Mother of God!" exclaimed young Mister Goldstein. "You people play for keeps!"

"That we do, my friend; that we do," smiled Harry.

"But, why did Professor Snape do it?" asked one of the others. "If the consequences were so severe, I mean."

Harry gave a shrug and said, "I believe it was because, in his arrogance, he thought I would be unaware of the laws and traditions, as I was raised in the muggle world. He learned the hard way he was wrong."

"The Slytherins and Gryffindor First Years had Professor Snape for first period this morning; immediately after it happened," said Daphne, speaking up for the first time in the general discussion. "He was both pale and shaky. He wouldn't come anywhere _near_ me for the entirety of the lesson.

"Towards the end of the lesson he was berating Neville Longbottom about the state of his potion. Neville was shaking until he suddenly had a look of anger on his face. That's when our normally shy and unimposing Neville sat up, stared at the Professor, and asked, 'Professor Snape. Are you aware that my grandmother, Dowager Lady Longbottom, is currently Regent Potter?'"

She smiled and said, "I didn't think Professor Snape could turn even whiter than he was already. He did, though. Then he spent the remainder of the class sitting at his desk and didn't say a word to anyone until near the end of class. Even then he only told everyone to bottle their potions, leave them on their benches, clean up and get out. No one's seen him since. I heard he didn't even show up for the third year potions class between Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff."

"Why aren't we taught about these traditions and laws?" asked a second year, Warren Chambers, who had slid up along the bench to better hear what was said. "I've been here for over a year and I didn't know ninety five percent of what you spoke about regarding the Houses. I think it's something we should know."

"The wizarding world expects you to find out on your own," replied Harry. "After all, according to them, _you_ have come into _their_ world. It behooves you to find out as much about it as you can, and to assimilate. It does not behoove _them_ to teach you."

"But, still," the boy pressed on. "How would we know to even ask in the first place? Honestly, we can't be expected to ask a question when we don't know the matter around the question even _exists_."

Harry sat back and thought about it for a little while. "I tell you what. Give me some time to catch up on the work I've missed - and to get the right reference material - _and_ to prepare something in advance. _Then_, I'll see about holding classes to teach muggleborns and muggle-raised some of what they need to know to get by in the wizarding world without putting their proverbial foot in it. Alright?"

Harry received back more head nods in agreement than he thought he would, including a couple of 'alright's' and a 'thanks mate'.

Turning to Daphne he merely cocked an eyebrow and said, "It looks like I won't be able to spend as much time with you during our free time as I hoped."

"In your dreams, Potter," she replied. "I think it'll be beneficial for me to _join_ you in teaching these classes."

Harry grinned back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	12. Meeting Ron

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twelve – Meeting Ron**

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Harry should have considered his words as those of a seer. At that same time, Cygnus was almost cackling with glee.

"I could _kiss_ that boy!" he called out. "If he wasn't already betrothed to Daphne I would have offered him a contract, anyway! Merlin, I might also offer him Astoria to go along with her!"

The noise brought Isabel into the room. "Cygnus?" she asked. "What in Merlin's _name_ are you so excited about?"

"Harry!" exclaimed Cygnus. "He's just pulled off the most Slytherin stunt I've ever _seen_. And, against the Head of Slytherin House, no less! _Ha!_"

Speaking soothing words, Isabel said, "Perhaps if you were to calm down and explain it to me..."

"Here!" said Cygnus, offering her a slip of parchment. "Read this! I've got to floo Augusta!" And he practically skipped out of the room.

At the fireplace, Cygnus had dashed in some floo powder, barked out, "Longbottom Hall," and stuck his head in.

"Augusta!" he called. "Augusta, are you there?"

A little elf popped into view in the parlour of Longbottom Hall and said, _"Mistress is in the sitting room, Mipsy will get her,"_ before she popped away again.

The next thing Cygnus saw was Augusta walk into the parlour with Amelia on her heels.

_"Cygnus?"_ asked Augusta.

"Augusta! Harry's sent us a memory. You've got to see this! It's like - a gift from the Gods, themselves! It's manna from heaven!"

_"Well, Amelia's here..."_

"Bring her! She can see this, too! She'll _love_ it!"

_"Alright, Cygnus; I suppose we've got the time..."_

"Yes! Come through!" and pulled his head back out of the flames. Without even thinking about it he drew his wand and banished the soot that had collected about his shoulders, face and hair.

The flames flared to life again and he was soon joined by Augusta and Amelia. Both of whom used their wands to banish their own soot and ash.

"Welcome; both of you!" he said, before he spun on his heel and walked away. "I've got my pensieve set up in my study..."

Leading the two ladies into his study while rubbing the palms of his hands together in glee, he said, "Alright. Harry sent me a letter and a memory about something that happened in the Great Hall this morning at breakfast." Looking to his wife he asked, "Izzy, can you show them the letter?"

Without a word Isabel handed the letter off to Augusta. With Amelia looking over her shoulder, she read:

_Lord Greengrass,  
Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass_

_It is with an angered heart I must write to you concerning an incident that occurred during breakfast, this morning, in the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Potions Master Severus Snape has, in a most vile manner, attempted to interfere with my betrothal with your lovely daughter, the Lady Daphne._

_I find myself so enraged by the event I cannot put quill to parchment to describe it to you. It __overturn__s my stomach. Instead, I have included my memory of the despicable act so you may judge for yourself the seriousness of the crime._

_I ask that you witness the event for yourself. Then, as a __concession__ to me, __negotiate__ a time with the Dowager Lady Longbottom, Regent Potter, for her to view same._

_Though the infraction by Potions Master Snape may be considered __minor__, as it is a betrothal between two Noble and Most Ancient Houses, I feel it __sirius__ enough it must be dealt with by your good selves as members in good standing of the __Wizengamot__. I feel even __Dumbledore__, as Chief Warlock and who attempted to intervene at the time, is not worthy of judging this matter._

_Have fun!_

_Mr. Harry J Potter  
Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter_

"Overturn, concession, negotiate, minor, serious misspelled, Wizengamot, Dumbledore," mused Augusta. "Why did he underline those words?"

"I believe I know," replied a grinning Cygnus. "Watch the memory with me and I'll explain."

The four adults then dipped into the memory and remained motionless for a while.

About ten minutes later, they all stood back up straight again and stepped back.

"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Augusta.

"_Ha!_" exclaimed Cygnus again. "Did you _see_ what he did? He escorted that young, brown-haired Gryffindor witch into the Great Hall, sat her at the _Hufflepuff _table with young Susan and Hannah all facing the Slytherin table, whispered something to the three of them and young Neville that had them grinning like loons, and then went and sat next to Daph and Tracey, who were clearly waiting for him, at the Slytherin table facing them!

"He had it all planned out _in advance_!" he exclaimed again. "I don't know how he did it, but I _know_ the boy tricked the Hat into sorting him into Ravenclaw instead of Slytherin. I'm _sure_ of it! I even witnessed the sorting; and it was one of the longest I've ever seen or _heard of_!"

"Yes, but perhaps now you can explain _why_ he did it to us lesser mortals," said Amelia. "Though I think I might have an idea."

"It's the letter," said Cygnus. "Overturn - instead of turn - concession, negotiate, minor, sirius - not misspelled _serious_ - Wizengamot, Dumbledore.

"Don't you see? We can _use_ what he did. As Harry is a _minor_, Augusta and I can _overturn_ the apology and use the incident to _negotiate _and wring _concessions_ out of _Dumbledore_ within the _Wizengamot_. His last line, have fun, tells us to do exactly that! And the name _Sirius_, for Sirius Black, being included tells us he hopes we can use it to wring _concessions_ for Sirius's freedom!"

Laughing, Cygnus said, "Dumbledore is going to do _everything_ he possibly can to save his precious _spy_. We can use this to get what we want out of him. He won't _dare_ try and block us; lest we then formally challenge Snape. We've got him by the nads, and Harry gave him to us!

"The boy, in one fell swoop, negated Snape's influences within the school and hamstrung Dumbledore from blocking us! And he used the laws of the old ways to do it. It was a most _guileful_ Slytherin move!"

"Oh, my," Amelia softly said. "He did, didn't he?"

"On top of that, when I escorted Harry into Hogwarts last night, it was easy to see the rest of the student population were either just scared, or flat-out terrified, of him," said Cygnus, breathing heavily from laughing too hard. "Now, he's just given a _very_ powerful warning to everyone else that Daphne is not to be bothered by _anyone_ - or else! And the faces on the boys sitting at the Slytherin table showed they _well_ understood the message. That girl just became the safest witch in Hogwarts! No one will go _near_ her now!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After lunch, Harry had a class on Herbology with the Slytherins. So, he was able to share a table with Daphne next to a table shared by another Slytherin witch and Tracey. He quickly learned that Daphne had quite the in-depth knowledge of potions and potion ingredients, of which many of the plants in Herbology filled. Together, they had fun repotting bubotuber seedlings from trays into small pots while Tracey and her partner were repotting common dittany from small pots into slightly larger pots.

"Damn!" Harry said softly after sniffing one of the seedlings. "These things smell like petrol."

"Petrol?" asked Daphne.

"Yeah, it's the fuel used by automobiles. You know, muggle transportation device with four wheels people ride inside of?"

"I _know_ what an automobile is, Harry," she replied in a condescending voice.

"Sorry," replied Harry. "I just know that some magicals aren't all that up-to-date with muggle technology and the sciences."

"I daresay these would be quite flammable," he mused.

"They are," she replied. "But the pus you extract from the nodules on the fully matured versions of these have a wide range of medicinal purposes. In the raw state, though, you need to wear your protective gloves when handling them. The pus is pretty corrosive and can cause burns and boils on bare skin."

"Five points to Slytherin, Miss Greengrass," spoke Professor Sprout who had come up behind them, "for that wise and correct counsel on the safe handling of bubotuber pus. Well done." Before she moved off again.

Before long their chore was done and both were able to clean up their workstation and themselves. They were quickly dismissed from the greenhouse and the weekend was theirs.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After their final Friday class, Harry and Daphne approached the door to the office and personal quarters of Harry's Head of House, Professor Flitwick, and knocked.

When they heard, "Come in!" from within. Harry opened the door and allowed Daphne to precede him into the office.

"Ah, Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass," said the diminutive Charms Master. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Sir, I have been asked by a number of Ravenclaw students to provide lessons on wizarding etiquette and traditions," said Harry. "I've come to ask permission to form a club for that purpose as per student rules."

The professor looked back for a second before gesturing to the other side of his desk and conjuring a comfortable love seat. "Take a seat and we'll discuss it," he said.

The two of them split around either side of the seat and Harry waited until Daphne was seated before taking seat himself. As soon as he did Daphne grasped his hand in hers.

The gestures did not go unnoticed by the Professor.

"So," the Professor began. "Tell me about this etiquette and traditions club you want to start."

"Well, after what happened this morning, I was approached by a couple of our 'Claws who wanted to know what I meant with what I said; and it meant, in general. From that discussion, where I gave an overview of the wizarding Houses and how they - tiered; the various Heirs and Heiresses, both Apparent and Presumptive; what a betrothal contract entailed, and about the one involving Daphne and I; and hinted at the many more traditions and standards of etiquette within the wizarding world; they, pretty much, ganged-up on me and asked me to teach them.

"If I'm going to teach them then I want to do it properly. I'll sponsor the club out of House Potter funds, provide texts, draw up lesson plans, and formalise the instruction as best I can before I even start."

Professor Flitwick was sitting back in his swivel-type office chair and was gently twisting it this way and that. He leaned forward, placed his elbows on the edge of the desk and cupped his chin in his hands. "Every now and then we get someone who wants to teach the muggleborns about the wizarding world," he began. "More often than not, the club that's formed usually dies a lingering death after a few months.

"Before me I now see a pureblood and a half blood who was raised in the muggle world wanting to do the same thing. Plus, both of you are Heirs to Noble and Most Ancient Houses; and that's _significantly_ different from before; and I'm sensing a sense of _Noblesse Oblige_ at work here." Looking directly at Harry, he said, "I'm also quite impressed by your knowledge of the matter, especially as you were muggle-raised."

With a blush, Harry said, "I'm a _very_ fast learner, sir."

Sitting back again, Flitwick said, "As it is not going to cost Hogwarts any of our limited discretionary funds, we've got classrooms to spare for you to base your club. Based on your little - display - this morning it is clear you have knowledge of at least some of the traditions. As there's also two of you wanting to work together to make it a success, I'm happy to be the staff member to sponsor your club.

"However, I'm going to want to see a decent set of lesson plans that cover the first half dozen at least classes you want to hold, in advance of formal approval. And the club is to be open to all students, including the purebloods."

Seeing the look on their faces from having to allow the purebloods in, he said, "I understand you may think there are some individuals among the purebloods who would only attend to - disrupt - the class. However, it is a requirement that such clubs be open to everyone unless age is an issue."

Harry and Daphne both gave the Professor nods of agreement.

"That being said, and as long as you agree to my requirements, I cannot refuse you from going ahead and making an initial start on creating the club," said the Professor. "There, you have my permission _in principle_."

Very shortly after, they were out the door and on their way to the Great Hall for dinner, before heading on to the library. Both had homework and, besides the Great Hall, it was the only place for students of different Houses to sit down to tackle it together.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once homework was out of the way, they both moved on to writing up what they needed for the club. Daphne was thinking up subject matter while Harry moved into the stacks to see what books the school library held on the subject. There were actually quite a few. He grabbed them and returned with his arms loaded to the table he and his betrothed had snagged at the back of the library.

As he approached, Harry could see Daphne had been joined by Neville, Tracey, Susan, Hannah, and Hermione. He also had a sense they were becoming such a tight group of seven it would soon be recognised by those outside of their little clique.

"What homework is everyone working on?" asked Hermione.

The others replied with what they were working on except for Harry and Daphne. "Daphne and I have permission in principle from Professor Flitwick to advance plan a school sanctioned club allowing us to teach muggleborns and muggle-raised about the wizarding world traditions and customs. We've already completed most of our homework so we're going to be spending a bit of time working out lesson plans and the like."

"And that's what that great stack you've got in your arms and are seemingly trying to hide behind is about?" asked Susan.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "I'm looking to see if there's a book that would be better suited as the text I want to purchase for all those who want to learn, other than the ones I already own."

"You want to pay for them out of your own pocket, Harry?" asked Neville.

Harry nodded and replied, "Yeah, I don't want them to have to pay for their own. They've already paid more than enough for the text books for Hogwarts and it would be unfair to burden them with another. Don't worry, though, I think the Potters can afford it." He grinned.

"Oh! that reminds me," said Hermione. She reached into her bookbag and drew out the two books Harry had loaned her. "Thank you for the loan. But I may come back and borrow them again for a refresher some time, alright?"

"Alright, Hermione," replied Harry. "All you need do is ask when you want to borrow them again, you know that."

While the others were working on their homework, Harry and Daphne poured over the texts Harry had brought back from the stacks and started to get a feel for how they were going to proceed. After skimming through the texts, Harry quickly realised he might need two different books; the same two he initially loaned Hermione, '_An Introduction to the Wizarding World_' and '_Noble Etiquette_'. The only text that could challenge those two was '_Wizarding World Etiquette and You_'. But the book looked quite old. He wasn't sure if it'd be still in print and, even if it was, if it had been updated enough to be worthwhile.

So far he was just going to stick with '_An Introduction to the Wizarding World_' as the text. Any information he needed from '_Noble Etiquette_' he'd provide by way of presentations. The vast majority of muggleborns didn't need to know all the etiquette, such as formal duelling practices, because it wouldn't apply to them.

An hour later and Daphne had compiled a list of subject matters to break down into manageable lessons. And Harry had devised a set of rules for them to abide by in forming those lesson plans.

Switching, Harry picked up what subjects Daphne thought they should cover while she read what he wrote. He frowned down at the sheet and thought about what else to include. He knew the first four of the subjects she listed could be covered by a single hour long session each. Transport and communication wouldn't take all that long, nor would Business and banking. Those two could follow one after the other in a single lesson. The last two could take many lessons, depending on how many such customs they wanted to address. Some etiquette was linked directly to a certain custom, and vice versa.

With only an effective eight months of the school year, it was clear they could not hold the classes on a monthly basis. So, Harry started to think of them needing to be held once per fortnight.

He then offered the sheet to Hermione who, he could see, was just antsy about getting to see what they'd written. She grabbed it eagerly and he went back to scanning through the last of the books he had left to peruse. He watched through his bangs and Hermione scanned through the list worrying at her bottom lip with her upper teeth as she did so.

When she'd finished, she handed it back.

"Anything to add, Hermione?" he gently asked.

She frowned and said, "With that much you're going to need to hold - club meetings - at least as often as once a fortnight."

Without a word, Daphne then handed over the list Harry had drawn up. As Hermione took it from her, Daphne turned to Harry with a grin, which he returned.

Sliding the sheet of subjects to a space between them, Harry said, "E and F can easily be merged into one - club session. There's more than enough time. However, Hermione's right in that we should aim for the club meetings to be held either once per fortnight, or on - say - the second and fourth Sunday of the month.

"That gives us about eighteen meetings between the start and end of the school year, with only one meeting being missed, the one over the Christmas break. So, we can start with - let's see..."

Harry quickly wrote out a curriculum for the first few months of the year.

"That can cover the next three to four months," said Harry, once he'd finished. "Which means, we've met Professor Flitwick's requirements."

"Hmm..." said Daphne. "And there's no requirement to run the classes - club meetings for the whole school year, anyway. After all, the concept came about because you want the muggleborns to understand the wizarding world and try to ensure that they won't unknowingly offend. It's not about filling a school year with extra-curricular activities.

"Plus, this allows us to spend an extra week, or even two, on a specific subject if we need to. I'm sure there's going to be the occasional subject that's going to require we spend more time on it than we originally allocated."

Nodding, Harry said, "Great! Then that just leaves which book we want to use as the text for the club. Probably, and only because I'm already more familiar with it, I suggest we stick with '_An Introduction to the Wizarding World_' for the first few meetings. And I think I will also go ahead and purchase a latest copy of '_Wizarding World Etiquette and You_' via owl post from Flourish & Blotts. If it proves to be as good as I hope it is, then I'll purchase a copy for each 'club member' who makes it past and sticks around after the first couple of months. How does that sound to you?

Daphne leaned over and kissed him on the cheek and said, "Most generous."

When Susan noticed what the time was, and that it was rapidly heading towards curfew, the seven packed up what they were working on. Daphne gave Harry a hand to reshelve the books he'd pulled, and then he joined them in leaving the library.

At the Grand staircase, Harry, Hermione and Neville headed up; and Daphne, Tracey, Susan and Hannah headed down.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next day, Harry took Daphne for a walk around the lake, the banks of which the Hogwarts castle was perched.

For most of the time they just walked along holding hands. They chatted about what Daphne had learned of her dorm and Year mates, and of the Slytherin House, in general. For his part, Harry told her about his first night in Ravenclaw. And how practically the whole House was waiting for him in the common room when he returned from meeting her in the passage just off the Entrance Hall.

He told her he had considered pranking his dorm mates on the very first night; but, had decided against it due to how tired he had become explaining everything to his House mates.

Harry asked her about her classes; who the teachers were, with which House she was sharing them. Though, with the last he could have easily figured it out for himself based on his own timetable.

She told him she found Professor Flitwick to be nice, as he'd experienced when he met the diminutive professor the afternoon before; Professor McGonagall was strict but seemed to be distracted at the time; Professor Dumbledore was currently teaching Defence Against the Dark Arts - and was clearly very knowledgeable about the subject - Binns in History of Magic was so boring he could drone a banshee to sleep without even trying; and Professor Sinistra clearly loved her subject of Astronomy. Of course, Harry spent the afternoon with her in Herbology, the final subject.

She went on to tell him how the others in their small group had all banded around her during the days Harry was in hospital to lend her their support. And how Neville very 'Gryffindorishly' told her he was willing to chaperone her about the castle until Harry returned.

She told him how Malfoy had tried to 'come on' to her on the Monday while she was walking between classes. And how it was Tracey that told the blonde ponce to look at her, Daphne's, ring finger. And how the blonde ponce took one look, blanched, and rapidly left with 'the two bookends' in tow.

She told him how another Slytherin boy, Theodore Nott, tried something at lunch the same day. But, she'd merely raised her left hand showing him the back of her fingers. However, it wasn't until she actually pointed to the ring, did the boy back off again. She also told Harry he was the boy who muttered 'Oh, bloody hell' when Harry was 'having a go' at Professor Snape.

And she told him how quite a few people, almost entirely girls, had approached from across the Houses to ask to whom she was betrothed. She had fun keeping it a secret.

Harry immediately apologised for ruining her fun. She, in turn, told him she'd had her fun, and the morning of the previous day was a perfect time to 'come clean' with the mystery boy's identity.

It took a while to walk all the way around the lake. It was, after all, quite large. But, to Harry and Daphne, it felt as if they'd only just begun their trek when they were back; this time on the other side of the castle.

"Well, that was quite the invigorating walk," said Harry. "Shall we venture back into the castle and partake of lunch?"

Daphne giggled and said, "With pleasure, kind sir."

"And at which table would my lady like to partake her lunch?" he mischievously asked.

Stopping for a moment she turned to Harry and, with a wicked grin, said, "Let's join Neville and Hermione for lunch."

With a laugh in reply, Harry said, "Gryffindor, it is!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When Harry, Daphne and Tracey joined a surprised Neville and a grinning Hermione at the Gryffindor table, they found some of the Gryffindors slid down the bench a little to give them room. Or, maybe, it was just fear.

Neville, seeing his year mates slide away, rolled his eyes at them. However, the resultant gap also allowed Susan and Hannah to join them.

What none of them saw was Professor Flitwick glance over at Professor McGonagall with a smirk and, holding his hand palm up before him, rub the ball of his thumb across the ball of his two next fingers in the age old gesture of 'pay up'. In response, Professor McGonagall gave a weary sigh and nodded her head in acceptance.

The seven had just settled down when Ron Weasley came into the Great Hall, intent on his own lunch. When he approached the end of the table closest to the head table he stopped in shock.

"What're those filthy snakes doing here?" he yelled, pointing at Daphne and Tracey.

He was immediately accosted by all seven suddenly standing and pointing their wands at him. He turned white in shock with his mouth gaping open.

"_Mister Weasley_!" yelled Neville right back, beating Harry to it by half a breath. "Were you _not_ paying attention to what happened at breakfast yesterday morning? Has your hunger so befuddled your mind as to strip it of all sense? The Headmaster made it quite clear that students are allowed to sit at any House table with the exception of the Sorting and Leaving feasts!"

"Excuse me, Mister Longbottom," said Professor McGonagall, coming forward. "I'm sorry to interrupt; but I find I need a most urgent word with Mister Weasley, the youngest."

"Of course, Professor," replied Neville in a calmer but no less carrying voice.

"With me, Mister Weasley," said the stern Professor in a no-nonsense tone, grabbing him by the upper bicep and half carrying, half dragging him back out of the Hall.

The seven, seeing the youngest Weasley dragged back out of the Hall, again took seat.

Just as they did so they were joined by the Weasley twins who stood just a little apart.

"Our apologies on behalf of House Weasley to you all," said one.

"... But, most especially to you; Lady Tracey, Lady Daphne and Lord Potter..." said the other.

"... Our idiot brother appears to have taken one too many bludgers to the head..."

"... That, or he was dropped on his head as a baby..."

"... Be that as it may..."

"... Yes, indeed..."

"... We will attempt to curb him from making such utterances in future."

Together, both bowed slightly before moving off again.

"What _is_ his problem?" asked Harry of Neville.

"I think he had his heart set on becoming the friend of the Boy-Who-Lived," replied Neville with a small smile. "At least, that's the impression I got, having to listen to him in the Gryffindor common room and our dorm. He was really not happy to discover you're not interested in befriending _him_."

"Oh?" asked Daphne.

Neville nodded and said, "Last night, he was saying something about how it wasn't right the Boy-Who-Lived was with a snake. And how her family must be using _dark magic_ on Harry to turn him dark. And how he should be with a 'Light' family such as, of course, the Weasleys. I get the impression he wants to rescue him from the clutches of the dark families before it's too late."

Harry snorted and said, "In other words, he's barmy."

Neville gave a bit of shrug in response.

"He has at least the girls in my dorm upset," said Hermione. "I think a couple of them even fancy you, Harry."

Thinking a bit, Harry said, "If he opens his yap about me and Daphne again, please make sure you tell him - in _public_ - that Daphne and my betrothal contract was drawn up and signed by our parents when we were infants. And - that it would be very unwise to stick his freckled beak in where it was both unwanted and unwarranted. The Noble and Ancient families will not stand for it; be they 'Light', 'Dark' or in-between. That should also get the girls to calm down."

"Alright," said Neville with a firm nod.

"Actually," said Daphne, "See if you can have a chat with his twin brothers. They seem to be fully aware of the customs, so may be able to talk some sense into their brother."

Neville nodded again.

"Was this another of those situations where you could have killed that boy?" asked Hermione, clearly a little worried.

Firmly shaking his head, Harry replied, "No, definitely not. First, he only called Daphne a 'filthy snake', which is something a lot of the other houses call, or refer to, the Slytherins. Besides, they're also known as the House of the Snakes, and they wear the snake motif on their robes as part of the House Crest.

"Secondly, Mister Weasley the youngest is a minor. He is not considered to be entirely responsible for his own actions. I could have had a go at his father, though; for not educating him properly on etiquette when dealing with the Noble and Ancient Houses.

"Thirdly, as Professor McGonagall is seen as his Head of House, even if it is only his _school_ House and not his family House. And that she is considered to be _in loco parentis_ - in effect, his parent - while here, at school; I'm willing to allow her to address his - behavioural problems - for now," he said, before dropping his voice and grinning, "as I have no doubt she is currently doing with great - energy."

That made the others laugh.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Professor McGonagall currently had the aforementioned red head in the same disused passageway as Daphne had ushered Harry into two nights previous.

"Of all the _ill_-thought, idiotic, _stupid_ things you could have done, Mister Weasley; even _I_ doubted you could possibly have done something so unwise as I just witnessed in the Great Hall," she ranted at him. "Did you _not_ see only yesterday morning what can happen when you interfere in the betrothal practices of an Ancient House?"

"But, _he's_ Harry Potter, Professor!" spluttered-whined the boy. "He _can't_ be with someone like a Greengrass! They're Dark!"

"Irrespective of _your_ views on the matter, Mister Weasley," she snapped at him. "He is betrothed to her, I _assure_ you. The Headmaster has gone direct to the Ministry and has seen a copy of the betrothal contract _for himself_! It is _unbreakable_!

"If they even _think_ you're attempting to interfere in the betrothal, the Ancient Houses will _not_ hold back in coming after _your family_!" she ranted again. "You know this, so _stay_ out of it!"

"It's not right, Professor," snarl-muttered the boy.

"I don't care!" she shouted. "_Stay_ out of it and keep your _opinions_ to yourself! It is _very_ clear Mister Potter takes his role of protecting Miss Greengrass very, _very_ seriously. If you attack her, in any way, he _will_ come after you with the power of the Ancient Houses behind him. At that point I _doubt_ I'll be able to protect you from your _own_ idiocy!"

With a heavy sigh, the boy sullenly muttered, "Yes, Professor."

Professor McGonagall visibly calmed herself down and said, "Heed me well, Mister Weasley. And that will be twenty points against Gryffindor for your behaviour. Plus, you will write a twelve inch parchment researched into the rights of the Ancient families regarding betrothals. It will be due in two weeks.

With that, the Professor stormed back out to the Entrance Hall heading back to the head table in the Great Hall.

She left the silently fuming red head behind in the corridor. A boy who was rapidly coming to the conclusion you shouldn't mess with Harry Potter.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	13. Reap Sow

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirteen – Reap Sow**

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The next morning, Harry received a notice via a Ministry owl while sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Daphne, Susan and Hannah. It was a short note from Madam Bones informing him an emergency session of the Wizengamot had been called for that afternoon. The note also told him to make himself ready in neat and tidy robes to be picked up by Cygnus from the Entrance Hall at 1.30pm. And that a note had been sent to his Head of House, Professor Flitwick, informing him he would be away for a few hours 'on family business'.

He also found Daphne had received a similar letter, as she would be joining him in attending the Wizengamot trial.

He also received, via Hedwig this time, his copy of that morning's _Daily Prophet_. He sighed when he saw the headline.

* # *

_BOY-WHO-LIVED BETROTHED TO GREENGRASS HEIRESS_

_In a stunning surprise it has been learned by the _Daily Prophet _that Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, through a long time existing betrothal contract, is betrothed to Miss Daphne Greengrass, eldest daughter and Heiress of Lord Cygnus Greengrass, reports Rita Skeeter._

_The betrothal contract, believed to have been signed by the Late Lord James Potter and Lord Greengrass, was activated by Mister Potter not long ago in accordance with his deceased father's wishes._

_Both Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass are current First Years at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Readers will remember it was only a week ago today that Mister Potter first entered the Great Hall at Hogwarts ready to be sorted. However, readers will also recall how the _Daily Prophet_ brought you the news of what actually happened. _

_Mister Potter remained in a private ward at St Mungo's until the early evening of last Thursday, when he immediately rejoined the student population at Hogwarts. Mister Potter, unlike Potters before him, was then surprisingly sorted into Ravenclaw. Clearly, Mister Potter has inherited the intelligence of his late muggleborn mother, Lady Lily Potter nee Evans._

_Further, Mister Potter does not wear spectacles; nor does he bear a scar where the Killing Curse supposedly struck. This brings into question just how much of that night we all believe to be true is actually true at all._

_It is unknown how this betrothal will affect the balance of power within the Wizengamot. However, the _Daily Prophet_ will bring you the news, as it relates, as we always have._

_For all the young witches out there hoping they would be the lucky one to capture the heart of the famous Mister Potter; sorry, girls; he's taken. And it appears he's been taken since 1980 or 81._

_More on the supposed Boy-Who-Lived, Mister Harry Potter and the House of Potter: pg 2.  
More on Miss Daphne Greengrass and the House of Greengrass: pg 2.  
An analysis of the effect this will have on the balance of power within the Wizengamot: pg 3._

* # *

"Damn it!" muttered Harry, flipping to the next page. Looking at his betrothed, he said, "The Daily Prophet just outed us. It's now public knowledge."

Daphne just shrugged and said, "You knew it was going to happen sooner rather than later."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I was just hoping we'd have another few days and could get the trial out of the way before the story broke."

"Why?" she asked. "At least this way, while people are going to be focussed on us and our betrothal, Madam Bones will be able to slip your godfather's trial in under their noses."

Looking up and thinking about it for a few moments, he said, "You're right. It'll have people looking at the left hand while the right hand is doing all the work. Thank you, for that."

"That's what being involved with me will do for you, Mister Potter," she said with a small smile. "You have my political knowledge at your disposal."

"Smart, beautiful _and_ modest," said Harry.

"That I am, good sir," she said with an air of smugness.

"Actually, I was referring to me," he replied with the same air.

Susan and Hannah broke into giggles.

Daphne whacked him on the arm and exclaimed, "Prat!"

_‗_  
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\""/

At precisely 1.30pm both Harry and Daphne were standing in the Entrance Hall waiting for Daphne's father to arrive and collect them. He did not disappoint.

With Professor Flitwick there as Head of House for Ravenclaw and representing Professor Snape as Head of House for Slytherin - the two felt he didn't want to be there due to the current threat he had over his head - they were joined on time by Cygnus.

A few words to Professor Flitwick and the promise they'd be returning as soon as their business was concluded, the party of three departed the castle and began to walk towards the main gates. Cygnus informed them both they'd be using the fireplace in the Three Broomsticks to floo to the atrium in the Ministry.

After a few words between Daphne and her father, Cygnus said to Harry. "Alright, Harry - I've been quite the patient man - How did you do it?"

"Do what, sir?" Harry innocently replied.

"You know very well what I'm talking about," he replied with a smirk. "I watched the sorting, remember. And I _know_ you fooled the Hat. I want to know _how_ you did it."

Harry laughed while Daphne looked on, confused.

Nodding, he said, "After I read what traits by which the students were sorted, I analysed all my emotional traits in as coldly a logical manner as I could," he said. "I then went through my mindscape looking for what the Hat would use to sort me. With me so far?"

Cygnus nodded and gave a verbal nod of agreement.

"I then took those memories that would be in favour of sorting me into either Gryffindor or Slytherin and buried them as far as I could. Then I took the memories that would be _against_ sorting me into Gryffindor or Slytherin, such as thinking Gryffindors were too stupid to be sorted into another house or were nothing more than cannon fodder, and thinking that I wanted to put a pillow over Malfoy's face and smother him in his sleep, and brought those forward. I made them seem more important to me.

"That then made it safe for me not to be sorted into either of those two Houses. Next, I brought right to the front all my desires to make friends and work hard, without hiding any traits about my intelligence or wit. I was pretty - 'slap-dash' - with that.

"When the Hat was placed on my head and started rummaging through, I sent mental shouts of 'Friends! Loyalty! Hard work!' and made it like I was trying to cover up my eidetic memory. The Hat found the not-so-subtle attempts by me to influence it to put me in Hufflepuff; and, because of the lack of subtlety there, did not look any deeper. Ergo, it did what I wanted and put me in Ravenclaw. However, I've no doubt I'd have been happy to be in Hufflepuff if I'd gotten things wrong, and it actually went with what it thought was my first choice."

Cygnus was laughing out loud as he was walking along.

Daphne, who had slipped her arm into Harry's elbow as soon as they started walking, whispered out loud, "I don't believe you pranked the Hat!"

Harry chuckled and said, "There's nothing to say it wouldn't have put me in Ravenclaw, anyway."

"Oh," he said. "That reminds me. While the Hat and I were having our little chat, he told me the Headmaster wanted him - it - to put me in Gryffindor. I couldn't get out of him why, though."

"I remember," replied Cygnus, turning to look at him. "I can't believe he did that."

"Well, I got the feeling it was more like a very strong suggestion," replied Harry. "What I felt from the Hat was that it had no intention of allowing the Headmaster's - suggestion - to influence it in it's job."

"Still, for the Headmaster to try and influence the outcome of a sorting..." said Cygnus. "If that becomes popular knowledge, it goes even further to show why Dumbledore should be removed as Headmaster."

"It'll be my word against Dumbledore's if he chooses to lie about it, though," said Harry. "I don't know how much value it is to know that information."

"I don't know either," said Cygnus. "However, it's still information that _may_ prove valuable later. Something to remember, Harry; just because information gathered now seems of no or little value, there's nothing to say it won't be of much greater value later. Alright?"

"Alright, I understand. Thank you, Cygnus," replied Harry.

Soon, the party of three walked out of the gates and walked across the street of Hogsmeade into the Three Broomsticks. They floo'ed to the atrium at the Ministry immediately.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Stepping out of one of the many fireplaces that stood down each side of the hall that was the Ministry atrium, Harry was able to successfully step clear without falling over.

'I'm thinking I'm getting the hang of this,' he thought. 'It's all in the timing.'

Cygnus led them down the length of the atrium to the security gate. The guard on duty weighed their wands and offered a receipt. Cygnus glared at the man for a moment before the guard stammered an apology and offered them back their wands.

"What was that all about?" asked Harry.

"Part of the security of the Ministry is that visitors must hand over their wands before entering beyond the atrium," replied Cygnus. "However, as I - and soon enough you - are on the Wizengamot, we are considered employees. That means we carry our wands through with us. The guard was being disrespectful by not immediately offering our wands back as we entered."

"Good to know," said Harry.

Cygnus led them to the bank of elevators. To Harry's surprise, he discovered what he thought to be vertical elevators, could actually move along all three axies. A minute later, they were on Level Two in a narrow but long foyer. Directly ahead from them was a door marked with the title 'Auror Dept.'. To their right were a series of doors. Cygnus led them to the fifth and last doors, double doors, on the right.

Two aurors in full auror robes stood just inside the doors. They gave the three of them a once over before letting them through; and Cygnus guided the pair of them up a narrow set of stairs into what was clearly a visitors' gallery. He, however, walked across the room and out another set of doors.

Harry gave Daphne a quizzical look before she smiled and said, "Out that door where Daddy went is where the judicial panel meet. As Daddy is part of the Wizengamot of long standing he can - demand to be part of the panel. That's what he's gone to do.

Looking around, Harry saw the room was quite circular. Almost two-thirds of the room was ringed in tiered seats that appeared quite plush. There was a gap at each end, one of which led to where the party of three entered. The last one-third was the hard wooden benches up which he and Daphne, plus a few others, were sitting. Looking over, Harry could see at least a couple of them were journalists that had camped outside his hospital private room while he was at Saint Mungo's. That lead him to believe the others were just as likely to be of the same profession. The two sat quietly chatting to each other in whispers while they waited to find out what was going on.

At just before 2.15pm the doors, out through which Cygnus had left, reopened and a stream of wizards and witches wearing plum coloured robes entered the room and immediately ascended into the plush covered seating opposite. Harry was surprised to see Dumbledore take seat to the immediate left of the centre seat. A rather obese man carrying a lime green bowler sat on the immediate right.

A few moments later, they watched as an elderly witch walked in with Madam Bones. Both ascended into the tiers. The elderly witch went directly to the centre seat while Madam Bones sat on a seat right at the nearest end.

"Oh, good," whispered Daphne to Harry. "Madam Marchbanks is presiding. She's strict but very fair."

As soon as she sat down, Harry noticed the clock on the wall click as it struck 2.15pm on the dot. She picked up a gavel sitting next to her right hand and gave it two short raps on the bench before her and a nod to a young man sitting at the other end of the front bench from Madam Bones.

In a clear voice the young man said, "Hear ye! We are gathered this eighth day of September in the year nineteen ninety-one in emergency session to sit in judgement. Madam Griselda Marchbanks presides."

Madam Marchbanks asked in a clear voice, "Madam Bones, for whom do we sit in judgement?"

Amelia replied, "We first sit in judgement of two muggles who are charged with crimes against the young Heir Apparent of a Noble and Most Ancient House. Those charges are: Ten counts of child abuse physical; ten counts of child abuse psychological; ten counts of child neglect; ten counts of child endangerment; and attempting, through ongoing abuse physical and psychological, to end the line of a Noble and Most Ancient House."

There was a great deal of angry mutterings coming from the members. Harry saw Dumbledore's reaction and whispered to Daphne, "Look at Dumbledore. I think he's fully aware of who's about to be brought in but is shocked at the charges, anyway."

"Very well," said Madam Marchbanks. "And what is the name of this unfortunate Heir Apparent?"

"Mister Harry James Potter," said Amelia.

There was even angrier mutterings and not a few shouts of outrage. Dumbledore looked positively ill.

Madam Marchbanks banged her gavel a couple of times until she had control of the session again. Once everyone had quieted down, she called "Bring in the accused."

Harry turned at the sounds of doors being opened and the two people he expected to see being led in by two aurors each. Two male aurors had hold of Vernon's upper arms on either side. Two females were the same with Petunia. His aunt and uncle both looked quite haggard.

As soon as Vernon saw the sitting members he began to rant at them. "What is the meaning of this, you freaks? I am Vernon W Dursley; a fine and upstanding member of British society. I shall not be treated this way. How dare..."

"Silence!" bellowed Madam Marchbanks.

Vernon's jaw snapped shut so quickly, Harry thought he heard the man's teeth rattle.

Meanwhile, the aurors forced both into side-by-side chairs, where chains that were draped from them immediately snapped to life and bound them to the chairs. Petunia screamed in fear while Vernon futilely tried to use brute strength to force his way out of them.

They calmed back down after a few seconds of pointless attempts.

Madam Marchbanks intoned, "Vernon Winston Dursley, Petunia Anne Dursley nee Evans, you have been charged with ten counts of child abuse physical; ten counts of child abuse psychological; ten counts of child neglect; ten counts of child endangerment; and attempting, through ongoing abuse physical and psychological, to end the line of a Noble and Most Ancient House. How do you plead to the charges."

"I do not recognise this injustice!" bawled Vernon with venom. "You're only freaks! We only recognise the authority of the _real_ court system of the United Kingdom, not this nonsense..."

"Silence!" bellowed Madam Marchbanks again.

Again, Vernon's jaw snapped shut.

"Your plea of not guilty has been entered into the record. And you, Madam Dursley, how do you plead?"

"Not guilty!" she haughtily replied.

"Very well," said Madam Marchbanks. "So entered." The old witch then turned to Madam Bones and said, "Madam Bones, please present your case."

What followed was like a revisited horror story for Harry. All the memories he had given to Madam Bones of growing up with the Dursleys were put on display above the pensieve that had been brought in for that purpose. They weren't all of his memories, but they were indicting enough.

Other memories were also played. Memories from someone else. These memories were of aurors going to Privett Drive to talk to the Dursleys and being verbally abused. Vernon had even tried to hit one of them, requiring the auror to hit him with a Petrification Curse. There were memories of a minute inspection of the cupboard under the stairs, of Dudley's bedroom, and that there was a spare bedroom that was partly full of Dudley's things, mostly broken. A running commentary of what was found was provided by an auror clearly speaking to the record of the memory.

During the whole time the memories were playing, Daphne had developed almost a death grip on Harry's arm. From only a few minutes in she had buried her head into his shoulder and was softly weeping. He asked her once in a whisper if he should take her outside. She refused, saying she would sit through it all, even if she couldn't watch a lot of it.

At one point Harry told her to look at Dumbledore's face. The old man was sitting there, openly weeping. It wasn't an act.

On a few occasions different people vomited. The mess was very quickly vanished.

When the whole display was finished, the room sat in utter silence.

It took a good few seconds before Madam Marchbanks looked to Amelia and asked for other evidence against the accused. Madam Bones stood and read out the list of injuries that Harry was suffering from when he was brought into Saint Mungo's. There were quite a few and it took several minutes to read through the list.

When she was done Amelia said, "I can have the healers brought in to give evidence to confirm or clarify this information if it is the wish of the court."

"No," said Madam Marchbanks is a near croak. "I don't think it will be necessary."

After a few calming breaths she asked, "Is there any further evidence against the accused?"

"No, Madam Marchbanks," replied Amelia.

Harry heard one lone voice say quite clearly, "_Thank_ Merlin!" is a very heartfelt manner.

Madam Marchbanks then turned to the accused pair and said, "Mister and Missus Dursley, in the pursuit of fairness, do you have any evidence to provide in your defence?"

Again, Vernon near bellowed out in a snarl, "The freak deserved _all_ of it! I intend to break your _freakishness_ out of him if it's the last thing I do! And how _dare_ you freaks invade my home and kidnap us! When the real _police_ hear about this they'll take care of you all, thank you very much! They know I'm a fine..."

"Silence!" bellowed Madam Marchbanks for a third time.

Again, Vernon's jaw snapped shut.

Looking at Petunia, she said, "And you, Missus Dursley? Our records indicate you are the blood relative of Mister Potter being the younger sister of his mother. Is that correct?"

Petunia, with tears rolling down her cheeks, simply nodded.

"And you have been aware of magic and the magical world since you were a small child. Is this correct?"

Again, Petunia simply nodded. This time with her head bowed.

"Missus Dursley," said the old witch with an angry voice. "I knew your sister quite well. She was considered the brightest witch, or wizard, of her generation. She fought against the evil that was ripping our world apart, the same evil that would have eventually ripped your own world apart. In essence, she fought for you and your way of life. And she _gave_ her life for it.

"How you could then do this..." she gestured to where the pensieve sat on its plinth "...to your own nephew, to her own child, to the one we consider one of our greatest heroes, simply horrifies me."

Hesitating for a few moments, Madam Marchbanks then said, "Petunia Dursley, do you have any evidence to provide in your own defence?"

"We never wanted him," she began. "He was dumped on us without us being asked. If we were asked, we would have said, we didn't want him."

With her voice gaining strength and anger she said, "But, no. Albus-_bloody_-Dumbledore said we _had_ to take him in. We _had_ to provide him a home. He didn't even have the _decency_ to come and discuss it with us. He dumped the baby _freak _on our doorstep with a letter on top. _A letter!_

"In his letter, he said that, as long as Harry could call our home his home, there were - blood wards - in place to protect us. To protect us from _freaks_ like _you_! Well, they didn't _do_ much good, _did they_? You still came and ruined our lives!

"Why won't you people leave us alone?" she near-screamed. "We don't want any part of your world. We just want to be _ordinary_ people, free to live our lives _the way we want!_" before subsiding into wails and sobbing.

Waiting a few moments for Petunia to subside again, Madam Marchbanks said, "As there is no further evidence to present. I now call..."

Surging to his feet, Harry called, "_Wait!_"

Angry mutterings came from the tiers as Madam Marchbanks banged her gavel on the bench a couple of times.

"And, who are you to interrupt this trial, young man?" she asked with a stern expression.

Standing up straight, Harry Replied in a firm but carrying voice, "Harry James Potter. Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter."

Madam Marchbanks stared back for a few moments while ignoring the mutterings going on around her. When the noise subsided again, she said, "I see. Well, if there is _anyone_ who has the right to interrupt this trial, it's you. What can we do for you, young man?"

Firmly, he said, "I wish to speak in defence of my aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley."

There were louder mumblings and even a few angry exclamations from the tiers. Madam Marchbanks needed to bang her gavel a few times to bring order back to the proceedings.

"While you bear significant resemblance to James Potter, and you have the same colour eyes as Lily Potter, you lack the famous scar," she replied. "Unless you have it hidden under a glamour?"

"There is no longer a scar," replied Harry. "However, there are three among you who can verify my identity; as well as this..." and held up his right hand bearing the ring of House Potter. "Plus, my aunt and uncle can verify I am who I claim to be."

"And who are the three among us who can verify you?" she asked.

"Madam Amelia Bones, Regent Bones; Dowager Lady Augusta Longbottom, Regent Longbottom; and Lord Cygnus Greengrass," he replied.

Looking to Madam Bones she asked, "Amelia?"

"Yes, Madam Marchbanks, he is who he claims to be."

Looking to Gran she asked, "Gus?"

"Yes, Griselda, he is Harry Potter."

"Cygnus?"

"Yes, Madam Marchbanks. That's Harry Potter my daughter has been crying upon during these proceedings."

Nodding, Madam Marchbanks turned back to Harry and said, "Then, please come down to the floor, Mister Potter, and speak."

Giving Daphne's shoulder a gentle squeeze, Harry descended the stairs and walked out to stand in the middle of the floor. His aunt and uncle watched him come. His uncle, with malice; his aunt, with hope.

As he walked down, Harry thought carefully about what he wanted to say. Reaching the centre of the floor he stopped for a few moments with his head down a little.

He then looked up and, in a gentle cadence, said, "Honoured members of the Wizengamot, I have come before you to speak in _defence_ of my aunt and uncle. They are the _last_ of my mother's family. As you heard my aunt say, they did not seek to become my guardians. I was _unwillingly_ thrust upon them by an old man who could not grasp the concept that family would not want me; would not love me. However, they still took me in.

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley are afraid. They are afraid of magicals because they see them as different. They are afraid of magicals because they have no defence against them. They are afraid because they do not understand them. They do not understand us. And, what you fear, you can easily hate.

"You see, when you fear something for long enough, you come to hate it. You come to hate it, because you don't like to be afraid. It makes you feel weak. The witch burnings and persecutions are proof of that.

"Yes, it sounds illogical to hate something because you fear it. However, that is human nature. It becomes even easier to hate when what you fear is another person. Specifically, another person's _gift_. Witches and wizards have power muggles like my aunt and uncle do not. It frightens them. So, they hate witches and wizards for being the source of their fear.

"In me, they saw something they feared. Here I was, first an infant and then a small child. And they were afraid of me. How would you feel if you were afraid of a small child?

"Petunia, growing up as the sister of a muggleborn, understands about accidental magic. She understands, through no fault of the child's own, that accidental magic can easily harm others. So, when I began to display signs of accidental magic, it created within her much fear.

"They had taken me in, albeit probably because of blood wards set in place by Albus Dumbledore; so, they couldn't just send me away again. As I had to remain in their home they somehow developed the idea that they could beat the magic out of me. They erroneously deduced that if they made me weak, then my magic would be weak. If my magic was weak, then any accidental magic I displayed would also be weak.

"_We_ know that was a foolish supposition. We know that when a magical child is in peril, it will have _stronger_ outbursts of accidental magic. They, however, not being experts on magic, did not know that. And so the beatings increased.

"Uncle Vernon sees that which does not meet the parameters of what he considers normal, to be 'freakish'. As he does not consider witches and wizards to fit his views of what is normal, he sees them as 'freaks'. He does not consider magic to be normal, so he sees it as 'freakishness'.

"When I displayed signs of accidental magic, he saw it as me showing signs of becoming a freak. He wanted me to be normal, so he decided to beat the freakishness out of me. To make me, again, normal. Plus, every time I displayed signs of accidental magic, it confirmed for him that there were people out there, witches and wizards, of whom he was afraid. And he did not like that."

With a gesture of his hand he indicated his aunt and uncle, "What you see here are two people who are very much afraid. Two people who, right now, are absolutely terrified. Two people driven by fear.

"What I ask is that you have compassion for them for their fear. I ask they not be executed by being sent through the veil or handed over to creatures they cannot even see, dementors, to be kissed. I also ask they not be sent to Azkaban, because, as muggles, they lack the constitution to last more than a few days in that place. It would be yet another form of execution for them; just a drawn out one.

"What I ask is they be handed over to their own police force, the Metropolitan Police Service, together with substantive and irrefutable proof of their crimes; and dealt with in the ways of the muggles."

Turning to his aunt and uncle he said, "Vernon and Petunia Dursley, you scared little fools; I am Harry James Potter, Heir Apparent to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. I'm also one of the richest people in Britain. Had you shown me a modicum of decency, I would have shared my vast fortune with you. You would not have had to worry about anything. Everything would have been taken care of for you. Instead, you allowed your fear of magicals and magic to rule your lives and ruin them.

"Think about that, if you're lucky, while you live out the end of your days in prison. Good bye."

Turning back to face Madam Marchbanks, he said, "Thank you, Ma'am, for allowing me to speak before you. Thank you for considering my words."

With a small bow he turned about and walked back into the visitors' gallery. He walked in silence.

As he was sitting down again, Madam Marchbanks gave herself a bit of a shake and said, "We will now vote only for guilty or not guilty. We will then take a short recess while we discuss punishment. All those for guilty?"

All wands were raised.

"Though, it seems pointless," she said. "All those for not guilty?"

No wands were raised.

Turning to look at the Dursleys she said, "We, the Wizengamot, having sat in judgement of you today, find you guilty of all charges."

She banged her gavel once and said, "We break to discuss punishment."

The members then filed out through the doors in which they entered. The Dursleys remained chained in place. Harry sat there stoically while Daphne hugged his arm.

As soon as the members left, two of those sitting in the visitors' gallery rushed over with parchment and quills almost barking questions at them. Daphne ignored them, but Harry looked at them both with fury and coldly said, "Unless you want to have to be taken to Saint Mungo's to have those quills and parchment surgically removed from your bodily orifices, you will us alone, right now."

Both men hurriedly backed off. However, both remained much closer than they were before. Both looked like they were trying to listen in on anything he and Daphne said to one another.

Harry, again, looked at them both. "Gentlemen!" he growled. "You have just heard more than enough from me, this day. If either of you so much as writes _one word_ of a _private conversation_ between my betrothed and I, I will use that vast fortune of which I spoke to utterly _destroy_ you.

"Now, move back to where you were and _do not_ bother us again!"

With muttered apologies but annoyed expressions, both men moved far enough away they could not listen in if Harry and Daphne spoke quietly to each other.

As Harry turned back around after a last glare at both reporters he saw Cygnus enter from the other door and quickly move to take seat alongside them. With a glare of his own towards the reporters he sat with his back to them while leaning in to Harry and Daphne.

"How are you two holding up?" he asked.

"I think Daph's going to need to take a dreamless sleep potion after watching all that," replied Harry. "But, I'm alright now. I said my piece and found it strangely cathartic; a refreshing purge." Using his chin to indicate the door through which the Members left, he asked, "What's going on in there?"

"Well, your little heartfelt speech really struck a chord," Cygnus replied. "You're the victim here, so you coming out with what you said has a lot of them wanting to go along with your idea. Before you spoke, though, there was a near-unanimous consensus to immediately take them downstairs and toss them through the veil. You've given them something else to consider and Amelia is currently telling them how she would need to go about it. It may not prove possible, though."

With a sigh, Harry said, "Good. At least they're discussing it."

Cygnus gave them both comforting pats on the shoulder before hurrying back off the visitor's gallery and rejoining the Members.

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	14. Hello Sirius

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fourteen – Hello Sirius**

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In the end, Harry got what he wanted. It seems the Auror department have a two-way channel with a special department within the Metropolitan Police Service. Amelia would contact her counterpart in Scotland Yard and they would work out how to see justice done.

After the Dursleys were told their fate, they both visibly slumped in relief. However, they were also warned.

"Vernon and Petunia Dursley," said Madam Marchbanks. "Your nephew just saved your lives today. You would not have seen the sun set this evening if he had not spoken in your defence.

"Soon, you will be handed over to a special section within your own Scotland Yard. They will be filing charges against you. When you go to court you will plead guilty to _all_ charges. You will accept all punishment and not negotiate for a lighter sentence.

"If you do not, we will come for you. On that day, you will not see the sun set. You will already be dead. Have I made myself perfectly clear to the two of you?"

"Yes - Ma'am," said Vernon in a quiet, defeated voice.

"Yes, Ma'am," said Petunia, once again sobbing.

Madam Marchbanks looked up from them both and called, "Aurors! Return them to their cells. They are to await there until such time as arrangements are made for them to be transferred to muggle custody."

A quick bang of her gavel and they were led out.

Standing, Madam Bones said, "Next case, Madam Marchbanks."

"Do we have time?" the elderly witch asked.

"I believe we must make it, Madam Marchbanks," Amelia replied. "We need to right a great wrong. We need to right a miscarriage of justice. A man sits imprisoned for a crime he did not commit. A man sits imprisoned having not faced trial. He was summarily dumped in Azkaban without even opportunity to defend himself."

"Then release him at once!" exclaimed Madam Marchbanks. "If the man has not even been given a trial, then he cannot be held. It's tantamount to kidnapping!"

"Yes, Madam Marchbanks," replied Amelia. "However, the man has specifically requested a trial because he believes it will not be believed he is innocent if he is simply released. He wants the trial so he is formally found not guilty and exonerated."

"Well, it sounds as if it's going to be a very short case," replied Madam Marchbanks. "Who is the prisoner? The one accused of a crime?"

"Lord Apparent of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Sirius Orion Black," replied Amelia in a flat voice.

While Harry thought there were times during the trial of his aunt and uncle where the Members got a little rowdy; it was nothing compared to the noise that issued forth from the Members this time.

No amount of gavel banging allowed Madam Marchbanks to gain control again. It was Dumbledore firing off a bang out of his wand, who got it.

Once the noise levels abated to a quiet murmur, Madam Marchbanks said, "In that case, we shall delay not one jot more in giving the man his trial. Is he currently available?"

"Yes, Madam Marchbanks," replied Amelia.

"And, are you ready to proceed?"

"Yes, Madam Marchbanks."

"Then bring the man in," instructed the elderly witch.

"For the first time, Harry was able to look upon the face of his godfather. The man looked quite gaunt; his cheeks slightly sunken; he had bags under his grey almost dull eyes; he walked, almost shuffled, with a slight stoop; his hair was long, lank and dirty.

Once he entered the room he looked around in interest, straightening up slightly as he did.

"Well," he said in a slightly raspy voice. "I'm finally getting my trial, am I?"

Madam Marchbanks said, "Take a seat, please, Lord Black."

Sirius gave the woman a rather queer look before plonking down in the remaining chained chair. The other, having been removed earlier.

The chains rattled before almost lazily draping themselves over him.

Once he was seated, Madam Marchbanks looked at Amelia and simply said, "Begin."

"Sirius Orion Black," Madam Bones intoned, "you are charged with two counts of conspiracy to commit murder by leading the dark wizard known as Lord Voldemort to the home of the Potters, where he did then murder them; one count of murder in the first by chasing down and killing Peter Pettigrew; thirteen counts of killing muggles during the period you killed Peter Pettigrew; and being a member of a proscribed organisation, known as Death Eaters."

Madam Marchbanks asked, "How do you plead?"

"Not guilty to all charges," replied Sirius quite firmly.

"Noted," said Madam Marchbanks. "Madam Bones, you may begin."

Amelia then caused to be played through the projection feature of the court pensieve the memories Harry handed over of the night his parents were killed.

Once the memory finished playing out, Amelia stood once more and asked, "Lord Black, do you consent of your own free will to the taking of Veritaserum, for the purposes of asking you questions regarding what happened on the night of the 31st of October 1981 at Potter Cottage; and what happened on the day of the 3rd of November 1981 in Covington, when you confronted Peter Pettigrew?"

"Yes, definitely," replied a now grinning Sirius Black.

With a nod of her head towards her aurors, one of the aurors came forward carrying a small phial of clear liquid. Sirius tilted his head back and three drops were dripped onto his tongue.

As the auror backed away, Sirius brought his head forward again and made a show of smacking his lips.

Amused, Madam Bones asked, "What is your name?"

"Sirius Orion Black"

"What is your date of birth?"

"14th of February 1960"

"On the night of the 31st of October 1981, were you the Secret Keeper for the Fidelius Charm placed over Potter Cottage?"

"No, that was Peter Pettigrew."

"Why would people think it was you?"

"I thought I would be too obvious a choice. I suggested to James he choose Pettigrew, another friend, instead."

"During the day of the 3rd of November 1981, did you track down Peter Pettigrew to a street in the shopping district of Covington?"

"Yes. It took me almost three days of hunting to finally find him."

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?"

"No."

"Did you kill any of the thirteen muggles that were in the vicinity?"

"No, that was Pettigrew."

"Who blew the hole in the street?"

"That was partly Pettigrew using a Blasting Curse to open up a hole in the street, and that he hit a gas main line when he did so."

"What happened to Pettigrew after he blew the hole in the street?"

"He cut off the little finger on his left hand using an underpowered cutting curse, changed into his animagus form of a brown common rat, and disappeared down the opened sewer pipes."

"Pettigrew is, or was, an unregistered animagus?"

"Yes."

"Are you, or have you ever been, a member of the organisation known as Death Eaters."

"No."

"Have you ever _desired_ to, or wished you could, join that organisation?"

"No, never."

"Madam Marchbanks, I have no further questions for this man," said Amelia after first turning to the elderly witch. "May I have the antidote given?"

Madam Marchbanks sighed and said, "Go ahead."

The same auror stepped forward and pulled Sirius's head back. He carefully dropped a couple of drops of the antidote into the slightly open mouth. When he released Sirius's head it moved back to it's original position. A few moments later, Sirius blinked a few times and he became more animated. Clearly, the antidote had taken effect.

Amelia called, "Madam Marchbanks; based on the evidence presented this day, I move that all charges be dropped and Lord Black be exonerated of any wrongdoing in this matter."

Nodding, Madam Marchbanks called, "All those in favour of dismissing all charges and exonerating Sirius Orion Black of any wrongdoing, raise your wands."

A quick count and the court stenographer gave a small nod to the elderly witch.

"All those _not_ in favour of dismissing all charges and exonerating Sirius Orion Black of any wrongdoing, raise your wands."

Only a few wands were raised.

"Based on the count," said Madam Marchbanks, "Sirius Orion Black, due to the overwhelming evidence in your favour, this court has dismissed all charges against you and exonerated you of any wrongdoing. You are free to go."

"Woohoo!" exclaimed Sirius. He was almost too jittery with excitement for the aurors to unwrap the chains from his emaciated body.

While they were doing so, Harry stepped down from the visitors' gallery a second time. This time he waited at the foot of the stairs facing his godfather. When the man, finally free of the chair's chains tuned towards the door, he spotted Harry.

With a look of surprise on his face he came forward and asked, "Harry?"

"Yeah, Pa'foo," replied Harry. "It's me."

Sirius took him into a tight hug and said, "I'm sorry I let you down, Pup. I should have been there for you."

"It's okay, Pa'foo," replied Harry, finally extracting himself from the man's arms. "We can discuss it later. For now, come up into the visitors' gallery. There's something about to happen you need to see."

With a frown on his face, Sirius followed after Harry and sat on the other side of him from Daphne. "What's going on, Harry?"

"Just watch and you'll see. This won't take long," he replied.

Madam Marchbanks had just asked Amelia if they were done.

"I have one further case to be dealt with by this body, Madam Marchbanks," replied Amelia. "However, I only wish to have it noted on the books today. And for it to come before us next Monday."

With a sigh, Madam Marchbanks said, "We're not going to be called once more to sit in judgement of Merlin, are we?"

With a smile, Amelia replied, "No, Madam Marchbanks."

"Let's hear it then," replied the elderly witch. "I'm quite looking forward to my dinner."

"Certainly, Madam Marchbanks," replied Amelia. She then referred to her notes and said, "I hereby charge and commit to trial Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore of the Minor House of Dumbledore with: abuse of authority of the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for using his position to have the Will of a Noble and Ancient House sealed; abuse of authority of the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for using his position to claim guardianship of a minor, namely Harry James Potter, contrary to the wishes of his parents as stipulated in their Will; abuse of authority of the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for using his position to improperly place the orphan of a Noble and Ancient House, namely Harry James Potter, contrary to the wishes of his parents as stipulated in their Will; abuse of authority of the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot for using his position to have sealed the Ministry records of a minor, namely Harry James Potter; child neglect of a minor of whom he had claimed magical guardianship, namely Harry James Potter, by placing him with his abusive muggle relatives and failing in his duties by checking up on the child to ensure he was being treated well; conspiracy to commit child abuse of a magical child, namely Harry James Potter, by having him raised, contrary to the wishes of the parents as stipulated in their Will, by a magical family; and kidnapping of the Heir Apparent of a Noble and Ancient House, namely Harry James Potter, by failing to hand him over to his rightful guardian when required to do so."

As soon as Amelia started with naming Dumbledore as the recipient of criminal charges, the ruckus started. By the time she reached the third charge there were already calls for him to be removed from his position as Chief Warlock. When she started in on the neglect and similar charges she doubted anyone had really heard what she said. So, she immediately sent a copy of her charge sheet to the court stenographer so he could properly write them down.

What Harry was watching was Dumbledore's expressions. As soon as the name was read out, Dumbledore looked back in shock. As each charge was then read out his face went from surprise to sadness to a look of pain to anger. Harry could see the old man probably knew his tenure as Chief Warlock had just come to a screeching end. But, Harry could also see the old man was thinking furiously.

Before Madam Marchbanks could finish getting the chamber noise back down to murmurs again, Dumbledore stood.

Once the murmurs were down, Madam Marchbanks asked, "Yes, Chief Warlock Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore replied, "I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hereby step down from the position of Chief Warlock pending my successful defence against these charges."

"Thank you, _Mister_ Dumbledore," replied Madam Marchbanks. "And I'm closing this session of the Wizengamot in case I face any more surprises. Session closed."

With one last bang of her gavel on the bench before her, she rose and immediately left the chambers followed by the entire body.

As they were all walking out, Sirius turned to Harry and asked in a quiet voice, "Where did he put you, Harry?"

"With the Dursleys," replied Harry.

Harry then swore he could hear his godfather growl.

While they were waiting, Harry had to again glare at the reporters to make them back off. He only had to do it once this time, though.

A few minutes later, Cygnus came back into the room and motioned for them to come down from the gallery. As soon as Sirius stepped down he held out his hand to the ravaged man and said, "Congratulations, Sirius. I'm very glad to have helped in finally getting justice for you."

Looking back in surprise, Sirius asked, "I have _you_ to thank for this?"

"Only as a small part," replied Cygnus. "It's your godson, here, who got the ball properly rolling. The others were Amelia Bones and Augusta Longbottom."

"Now," said Cygnus, "the kids have to get back to school. You're invited to Greengrass Estate where we can work towards getting you back to health. Interested?"

"I want to spend time with my godson," said Sirius, a little warily.

"And, I promise you, that will happen," said Cygnus. "For now, it's best we get you back to the Estate, get you cleaned up, and get some decent food into you."

"He's right, Pa'foo," said Harry. "First things first."

"Alright, then," said Sirius. "I admit I really do want a bath."

The four of them then headed out of the court and straight into the lifts. The two journalists dogged them all the way. When they had to wait for the elevator, with a look at Harry, one of the journalists asked, "Are you happy to be free, Lord Black?"

"Don't you think that's quite the idiotic question?" asked Sirius in response.

"Will you be staying at Greengrass Estate for long, Lord Black?" asked the second journalist.

"Maybe," replied Sirius.

"And what is the first thing you're going to do now that you're free, Lord Black?"

"Take a long, hot bath," replied Sirius.

The lift arrived and all six piled into it.

A few minutes later and they were passing back out through the security checkpoint where the two journalists were delayed in retrieving their wands.

That gave Harry the chance to say, "We've still got time before Daphne and I have to get back to Hogwarts; what say we go to Greengrass Estate first? Give Sirius a chance to ask us a couple of questions before we have to go back?"

Sirius gave Cygnus a hopeful look.

With a grin Cygnus replied, "Wonderful idea. But I'll definitely be getting you back before curfew tonight."

Before the two journalists had a chance to catch back up to them again, the four quickly floo'ed to Greengrass Estate.

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Stepping out of the fireplace at Greengrass Estate was, first, Cygnus. He immediately went to the ward control book and wrote in the name Sirius Orion Black. As he was writing Daphne was next through. About fifteen seconds later came Sirius, quickly followed by Harry.

"Damnable journalists!" muttered Harry. Looking at the others, he said, "They'd just caught up to me as I was waiting to come through."

He quickly used his own wand to vanish the remains of the soot that covered his robes.

Sirius was looking around in a bit of a daze. Once Harry stepped through he looked at the other three before turning to Cygnus and asking, "Not that I'm not grateful, Cygnus; but, why?"

"Because you're Harry's godfather, you're the fellow Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House and we look after our own, you needed help and I could provide it, what does it matter?" replied Cygnus.

"That's part of what I don't understand," replied Sirius. "I was disowned. And what about my grandfather?"

With a sigh, Cygnus said, "Your grandfather passed a few months ago, Sirius. You were never disowned. Though apparently your mother was determined you would be, your grandfather never did it. So, as you were his Heir Presumptive at the time of his passing, the Head of House Black passes to you."

Sirius collapsed into a chair and sighed, "Arcturus might have been an - not nice man - at times, but even _he_ wouldn't want to upset the rules of inheritance _that_ much." Looking up, he said, "Lord Black, eh? That's going to take some getting used to."

"And you've got plenty of time to do it," replied Cygnus.

Giving himself a bit of a shake, Sirius looked up at his godson. "So, Harry," he said. "You're a lot bigger than I remembered."

Harry gave a snort and said, "Droll, godfather."

I take it the young lady with you is Cygnus's oldest," said Sirius. "Daphne, right?"

Daphne just nodded while Harry just looked back at his godfather. "You should know," snarked Harry. "After all, because of what I suspect was one of your pranks, Daphne and I are betrothed."

"Huh?" replied Sirius, not a little confused. "What'd I do?"

"Now, let's see," said Cygnus, enjoying the moment. "Baby Harry is barely a day old. Someone gets the bright idea for the wizardfolk to get together to 'wet the baby's head', so to speak. Lots of firewhiskey gets tossed back. _Someone_ gets the bright idea to betroth infant Harry to my infant daughter. Hilarity ensures. _Someone_ draws up the contract. _Someone_ thinks it's a great idea to use a blood quill. I think you get the general idea."

"Oh, Merlin," moaned Sirius. "I forgot about that."

"Yes. Well. Eleven years later I receive a nice little formal letter from one Harry James Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter; that, while formally written and with the right prose, basically asked, 'What in Merlin's name is this?' concerning the contract."

Harry grunted and said, "I had only just returned to the wizarding world after escaping the clutches of my aunt and uncle. I had very little money on me, and hoped there might have been money left for me from the estate of my parents. I went to the bank, Gringotts, and they informed me of the accounts, the fact their Will had not been executed, and that - surprise, surprise - there was an unbreakable betrothal contract between me and Daphne Ophelia Greengrass, the eldest daughter of Lord Cygnus and Lady Isabel Greengrass. I was both furious and scared out of my mind.

"I didn't know what to do, at the time, so I just asked to have a look at the family vaults. In there, I found two letters addressed to me; one each from Mum and Dad. Dad's letter told me how the betrothal contract came about.

"After leaving the bank I went to the bookshop and bought books on living life in the wizarding world, noble etiquette, a history of the ancient Houses and some others. I then studied up on what I had to do over the next few weeks. Eventually, I wrote to Cygnus and things moved from there."

"But, surely Frank and Alice would have helped you out with all this," said Sirius, quite confused. "You were supposed to go live with them if anything happened to your parents."

Harry grunted again and said, "That did not happen. I'll let Cygnus tell you what happened and why, as it's a long tale to tell. However, I was - raised - by my muggle aunt and uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley."

"No!" cried Sirius. "You were never to go anywhere _near_ those people! What happened to Frank and Alice? They were alive, healthy and living under a Fidelius when I - when I went after Peter."

"That's part of the tale for Cygnus to tell you," replied Harry. "All you need to know for now is that, as per my father's wishes, I accepted the Headship of House Potter on my eleventh birthday. Since a few days before I started at Hogwarts, I've been effectively living here. I'm currently a Ward of the Ministry; but Cygnus, Aunt Amelia and Gran - Madam Longbottom - are sorting that all out. I activated the betrothal contract and, as per the old ways, and the ways of the Potters, both Daphne and I wear matching betrothal rings.

"While I was in seeing the goblins, Bloodfang was trying to tell me something but legally couldn't. However, what he _did_ tell me was that the goblins recognised you as Lord Apparent of House Black. Of course, that should not have been possible seeing as you were in Azkaban for life. That got Cygnus, Amelia and Gran looking into why. Which, of course, led to discovering you'd never received a trial. Your name did not appear in the Book of Convictions."

"I wondered why," said Sirius softly.

"Alright," said Cygnus before he looked at Harry and Daphne. "I promised Professor Flitwick I would return you two promptly to Hogwarts. I'll go and see if we can use his fireplace to floo the pair of you direct to his office. You'll have plenty of time to catch up with your godfather next weekend."

"Sorry?" asked Harry.

"With Dumbledore's trial set for next Monday afternoon I cannot see any reason for me not requesting, and getting, permission for the both of you to spend the weekend here, catching up," replied Cygnus.

Walking across to the fireplace he grabbed a small handful of floo powder and, dashing it into the fireplace, called "Hogwarts, Professor Flitwick's office," before sticking his head in.

While Cygnus was talking through the floo, Sirius turned to Harry and softly said, "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, Harry. I - I should have been."

"The time for recriminations is later, Lord Black," said Harry. "For now, you have other priorities. For starters, you stink! You need a bath. Then I suggest getting into some comfy duds, enjoying a healthy meal and relaxing long enough to get your head around the fact you're currently free. And talk to Cygnus. We'll talk next weekend."

Pulling his head out of the fireplace, Cygnus said, "Alright. I caught Filius just as he was leaving for the Great Hall for the evening meal. He's now waiting for you."

Looking at Harry and Daphne, he said, "The address is 'Hogwarts, Professor Flitwick's office', let it connect and then call the password, 'Wingardium'. Then you can step through."

"Thank you, Cygnus," said Harry, while Daphne gave her father a big hug.

Picking up a little floo powder he dashed it into the fireplace and did as instructed. A few moments later he was standing in the office of Professor Flitwick. Daphne joined them a few moments later."

"Enjoy your visit?" asked the Professor.

"Yes, Sir," replied Daphne.

"Thank you, Sir," said Harry.

"Well, come along then," said the Professor. "We do not want to allow our dinner to get cold, do we?"

The three left, headed for the Great Hall.

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While Harry and Daphne were spending time with Sirius and Cygnus at Greengrass Estate, Dumbledore was sitting in his office. He had a bottle of muggle brandy and a clean glass on his desk. However, he'd not touched the stuff since his return.

Since his return he'd been staring out the wide office windows and across the grounds of the castle. Aware of his bond-mate's thoughts, Fawkes had been softly crooning to him. It didn't seem to help. Occasional tears had almost stained tracks down the old man's face.

'What have I done?' thought the old man. 'How could I have been so blind? I should have checked. I should have listened to Arabella. I _cannot_ understand how someone could do that to their own flesh and blood! It's no _wonder_ he clearly hates me now! At least I _now_ know what led to that fury on the night of the Sorting.'

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For dinner, Harry and Daphne sat together at the Ravenclaw table. Of course, quite a few of his fellow 'Claws wanted to know where the couple had been all day. Harry just smiled and said, "I have a feeling everything will become public knowledge at breakfast, tomorrow morning."

Harry noticed and pointed out to Daphne that Dumbledore had not joined the staff for the evening meal. His place at the table conspicuously remained vacant. Neither cared, but it was an interesting factoid.

After the meal, the two remained at table for a little while as their friends joined them. After a few questions, they gave the highlights about what had happened that day: Harry's aunt and uncle found guilty and handed over to the muggle police, Harry's godfather finally got his trial and was freed, and Dumbledore's charges.

After about a further half an hour the group left the Hall and split to go to their different common rooms. Class would restart the next day. Monday.

Returning to his common room and dorm, Harry set on filling out an owl order form for Flourish and Blotts for the book '_Wizarding World Etiquette and You_'. Which he was supposed to have already ordered but it was the weekend, anyway. Plus he requested a list of similar books in their stock.

Harry browsed the shelves of his memories of Flourish and Blotts in his mind and added to the list a couple of books on Occlumency for beginners. He knew he would soon be asked by the others about his memory skills so decided to keep the books handy to offer to them.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	15. Attacked

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifteen - Attacked**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, the seven were sitting together at the Hufflepuff table finishing their breakfasts when the mail rolled in. A great deal of it was aimed directly at Daphne, with some overflow aimed at Harry.

As soon as the mail owls began landing on the table both Harry's and Daphne's rings were going crazy. The two looked at the piles before them in shock. There was even a howler hovering in the air above Daphne's pile.

While everyone else around them were also in shock, a couple of hands started to reach forward to the piles. Harry thrust both hands out and knocked the hands away. "Nobody touch anything!" he yelled, drawing his wand out. The hands were snatched back as if scalded. "Some of this stuff is booby-trapped!"

"Everybody back away!" he yelled again.

While Harry was keeping everyone from touching anything, both Professor Flitwick and the Headmaster hurried over.

"Mister Potter?" asked Professor Flitwick. "What is going on?"

"I don't know, Sir," replied Harry, who was waving his wand over the entire mess. "But I'm detecting harmful intent-based magics. There's both mind altering charms and harmful potions at work, here."

Both Professor Flitwick and Dumbledore moved forward with their own wands drawn. Both had their wands moving in elaborate movements.

Speaking up as both started to work, Harry said, "You're not to cancel any of it, Sirs. I want the aurors called to investigate. These, whatever else they are, are _attacks_ on the Head of an Ancient House and his betrothed. That makes it a criminal matter."

Pausing for a moment, both Professors, with grim looks, nodded and continued to work.

Students around them were talking about what they were watching.

A few moments of work and those packages still attached to the legs of owls were released, allowing the birds to depart. However, Hedwig immediately flew to Harry's shoulder and glared back down at the offending piles. She also gave him a couple of indignant hoots and a nuzzle of his ear.

With a disappointed sigh, Dumbledore was the first to back away. "You are correct, Mister Potter. Though most of it is simple mail, I'm detecting at least three that have been infused with various potions, two with compulsion charms, and one I cannot figure out what it is, but is clearly harmful."

Lowering his own wand, Professor Flitwick looked ropable. "I detect the same. Plus one that has a small explosive component with, I think, undiluted bubotuber pus."

With a frown, Dumbledore gave his wand another flick over the piles and said, "Yes, aimed at Miss Greengrass. It would have exploded the moment she touched it. I have neutralised the explosion but left the rest of it in place."

Turning to Professor Flitwick he said, "Please take over here, Filius. I'll summon the aurors through my office. Mister Potter is correct in that this _cannot_ be allowed to go past, uninvestigated." He turned and rapidly left the Hall for his office.

Professor Flitwick had the Ravenclaw students either move further down the table or across to other House tables. Those sitting nearby at the Gryffindor table were also moved away.

Daphne immediately moved to Harry to be hugged. She was upset. "Who would _do_ such a thing?" she querulously asked.

"People who are not happy with _you_ for becoming betrothed to _me_; people not happy with _me_ for becoming betrothed to _you_, or becoming close with someone who's not of the 'Light'; people thinking I attacked their children last Sunday night; or maybe just mothers, daughters, whatever, not happy with you for snagging the Boy-Who-Lived. It doesn't matter what drives people to do something like this, it's still a criminal matter and I want them dealt with as such," replied Harry.

When everyone, except Harry and Daphne, were moved away, the professor moved next to Harry and said, "I did not recognise the movements of your wand for that detection spell you used, Mister Potter. Care to explain?"

With a sigh, Harry quietly replied, "That was a bit of theatre, as you would put it, Professor. A little bit of misdirection. The detections were made by the betrothal rings Daphne and I wear. They're charmed to actively detect harmful potions, poisons and spells whenever such comes in close proximity to the rings. I want to keep the abilities of the rings as secret as possible for as long as possible." Indicating the stacks of mail, he said, "And this, in part, is why."

With a look of initial surprise, the Professor's expression cleared in understanding. He said, "Ah, yes. I remember your parents wore similar rings once they were engaged. I once worked with your mother to see if the charms could be expanded. I'm very happy to see that they work as designed. And, that neither of you are hurt."

After Dumbledore returned with a small group of aurors, the aurors set to work on bundling everything up and taking it away. The senior auror said to both Harry and Daphne, "We'll go through it all and see what we can track back to identify the culprits. Any mail we clear will be sent back to you immediately. You should have it at lunch."

Harry nodded and said, "Thank you. I'm expecting some very important _personal_ mail today and I don't want to miss it."

After the aurors left with the mail Harry and Daphne joined the other five at the Hufflepuff table. He was handed a copy of the Daily Prophet by one of the 'Puffs looking at him with a bit of awe. "Here, I noticed your copy was taken with the rest of your mail. You might want to read the front page."

With a word of thanks to the 'Puff, Harry unfolded the paper. Three articles on the front page immediately caught his attention.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

_* # *_

_SIRIUS BLACK FREED_

_In a shock court appearance in Courtroom Five in the Ministry yesterday, Sirius Black, thought to have betrayed the Potters and killed Peter Pettigrew, finally faced trial, reports Monty Wordsworth, court reporter. What's more shocking is that he was proven to be completely innocent of the crimes and exonerated from any wrongdoing. _

_Lord Black has spent almost ten years behind bars at Azkaban for crimes of which he was completely innocent._

_The real culprit was found to be Peter Pettigrew, who, apparently, was not killed. Peter Pettigrew is now wanted for questioning around the events of the 31st of October 1981, and the killing of the muggles a few days later._

_The first person to congratulate Lord Black was none other than Mister Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, who hugged him. _

_In another shock, it was learned that Lord Black is actually the godfather of Mister Potter. Information that was not made clear until yesterday._

_It is expected Pettigrew's Order of Merlin Third Class will be retracted._

_When asked what he most looked forward to now that he's been released, Lord Black replied, "A long, hot bath." _

_As Lord Black left the courtroom, he did so in the company of Mister Potter, Mister Potter's betrothed, Miss Daphne Greengrass, and Lord Greengrass._

_It is believed Lord Black is likely recovering at Greengrass Estate._

_* # *_

_MUGGLE GUARDIANS OF BOY-WHO-LIVED SENTENCED_

_In a trial immediately prior to the shock events around the exoneration of Lord Black, the muggle guardians of the orphaned Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, stood trial yesterday on numerous charges, writes Monty Wordsworth. The charges relate specifically to the appalling treatment of our young hero while in their questionable care._

_This reporter was made ill during and after watching verified memories of vicious beatings over the course of almost ten years upon Mister Potter at the hands of his muggle guardians. And I was not the only one. Many members of the Wizengamot sitting in judgement of the muggles concerned were also quite ill while they had to watch the memories played for the court. They were, in many cases, both gruesome and horrifying._

_I will not sicken our readers by going into detail of the beatings and other treatment concerned. However, some of the injuries resulted in many multiple poorly set bones that remained untreated, long-term untreated malnutrition, and an incredible number of scars upon his body._

_Many of our children were read bedtime stories of Harry Potter and his adventures over the years. It has now been proven those stories were nothing but the fantasy writings of deranged individuals who wrote them to profit off Mister Potter's misery. I, for one, will be returning the 'Harry Potter' books I purchased to read to my children at night to the bookstore from where I bought them. I will be demanding a refund._

_While we should be the ones comforting Mister Potter during these times, Mister Potter spent most of the time during the playing of the memories comforting his betrothed, Miss Daphne Greengrass. Miss Greengrass appeared quite shaken and distressed from what we were all witnessing. Her reaction was unsurprising._

_Mister Potter, with a stoicism hard to find in many adults with years more experience to the hardships of life, set aside his own emotional turmoil to provide comfort to a loved one, placing her needs above his own._

_During the sentencing phase of the trial, this reporter expected the muggles to immediately be sentenced to the Veil or the Kiss. However, Mister Potter asked to speak in defence of his guardians for their actions against him. Yes, dear readers, in _defence_. Madam Marchbanks, as presiding judge, granted him the opportunity._

_Mister Potter took the floor and spoke of how the muggles treatment of him stemmed from fear; fear of magicals and the wizarding world. The same fear that led to the witch burnings of yester-year. He spoke of how it was fear that led to the muggles mistreating him. He said they feared magicals and did not want to see him become one. Mister Potter's generosity and compassion shone through._

_And he asked that, instead of the wizarding world sentencing them, that they be handed over to the muggle aurors for the muggles to deal with them. _

_While in secured chambers, the panel convened to pass judgement. They agreed with Mister Potter's recommendation. And so the muggles will be handed to the muggle aurors._

_Mister Potter may not be the hero of those fantasy books supposedly written about him. Books that are nought but lies. But he is no less a hero to those muggles for what he accomplished yesterday in that courtroom._

_* # *_

_DUMBLEDORE CHARGED_

_It was also learned yesterday that Albus Dumbledore was the magical guardian of Mister Harry Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, while he was being mistreated by his muggle relatives, continues Monty Wordsworth._

_In light of that information, it is unsurprising that Albus Dumbledore has been stripped of his magical guardianship and now faces charges relating to those events._

_Mister Dumbledore faces further charges, including charges relating to abuse of his authority as Chief Warlock in placing Mister Potter with the muggles, going against the wishes of Mister Potter's parents in who should be granted guardianship of him, sealing the Potter Will, and neglect of his duties as a magical guardian when he had claimed the position for himself._

_Upon the reading of the charges, Mister Dumbledore immediately stepped down as Chief Warlock until the charges were dealt with. It has been tentatively scheduled that Mister Dumbledore will face trail on these charges next Monday afternoon. _

_* # *_

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After breakfast, Harry had his first class at 9.00am; Double Charms with Professor Flitwick and the Gryffindors. For the others, it was their second lesson; for Harry, his first.

Like everything else he did, Harry picked up the material very quickly. After all, he'd already read his text before school even started; and it was now safety stored in memory.

However, so as not to arouse suspicion, he had his text with him on the bench and was idly flipping through the pages. While looking through, he soon came to the conclusion his days at Hogwarts were going to be absolutely boring if he didn't find himself things to do. He and Daphne were going to be running their little 'etiquette club' on Sunday afternoons, but what was he do with the rest of the time.

After having read through his class schedule Harry could see that classes would only occupy a small portion of the day. Assignments, a bit more. And meals a little bit more again. Sleeping was no longer an issue as he now passed by on about six hours of sleep a night.

That left on average about five hours a day 'down time' on weekdays if he took things slow, and about _fourteen_ hours a day 'down time' each weekend day.

That was intolerable to Harry. So, Harry started to plan.

First, he was going to do what the healers had demanded of him, and exercise. He'd start with running in the mornings and see what he could do about other cardio work after that. That meant contacting someone, probably Madam Malkin, to see about owl ordering some clothes to exercise in.

He would also see if he could learn what the prophecy Voldemort mentioned was. Voldemort might be gone but all his Death Eaters weren't. One of them might come after him based on the prophecy. Harry thought it best to be aware of it. After all, forewarned is forearmed.

He planned on reading every text book for his classes right through all seven years. If he had to, he'd borrow them off the other 'Claws, over time. That way he'd have the whole lot committed to memory.

Next, he'd move on to other material contained within the Hogwarts' library. He'd heard older 'Claws talking about Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Those sounded like fun. At least he hoped they would give him a chance to exercise his mind.

He also wanted to know what other magicks there were out there that never were, or were no longer, taught at Hogwarts. The Hogwarts library was a treasure trove for someone with Harry's mind. Granted, a great deal of it might be repetitive, and have been covered numerous times in other works, but he could still glean a lot of information out of it.

If he was going to be doing something like that, though, he knew his mental library was going to require expansion. Maybe, he could use the same space expansion techniques that were employed on his trunk.

'Alright,' he thought. 'Maybe I'm not going to be bored spending on and off seven years here, after all.'

But there had to be more to do than just read and memorise tome after tome; then sorting the information in them into a library of his own design. Could the Dewey Decimal system be used within his own mind? Or was there some other cataloguing, magical, method he could use? Perhaps investigating information cataloguing systems should be the first project to do.

And what about what was going on with him, personally. He'd had a piece of the soul of Voldemort tucked in behind his scar on his forehead. And, apparently, there was another that had possessed that Professor Quirrell bloke. How was it possible for someone's soul to be split like that?

Next, was what Voldemort had said on that night in his nursery. There was some sort of prophecy about Harry and Voldemort. That was why it appeared Voldemort specifically targeted Harry, not the Potters, in general. How could he find out what it was?

Harry gave himself a visible shake to help clear his mind of all those thoughts. He still had the rest of the current double period of First Year Charms to get through before he could even think of anything else.

Harry had never liked to sit still and do nothing. It reminded him too much of being locked in the cupboard under the stairs. He much preferred to be doing _something_, no matter how menial it proved to be.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At lunch, Harry and Daphne received their mail, as did the group who were sitting with them at the time they were, as Harry was putting it, mail bombed.

From Cygnus, he'd heard that Sirius had bathed, eaten a decent meal - his first in a decade, and was fitted with some of Cygnus's clothes that were now too small for the older man. They planned today to head back to the Ministry where Sirius was picking up his effects he had on his person when he was arrested, and that were still in evidence storage. That included his wand.

His effects from the place he was staying during the period leading up to that night had been lost. It was suspected that the muggle landlord, after Sirius failed to return, had sold the effects or simply just gotten rid of them. However, they couldn't even talk to the landlord, as he had died a few years previous.

Then they were heading for Gringotts for Sirius to formally accept the Lordship of House Black, and carry out what business was needed to bring the accounts out of the stasis into which the goblins had placed them on the death of old Arcturus.

Cygnus felt that would be enough for the now ex-Azkaban resident. They would spend the rest of the day at Greengrass Estate, where Cygnus and Amelia would lead Sirius through the memories Harry had given them. Cygnus told Harry they would not be showing Sirius the memories of Harry's time with the Dursleys.

Cygnus also included a short paragraph on how he would discuss the Regency/Proxy of the Seat of Black with Sirius. Now that Sirius was exonerated the choice had been, or would soon be, removed from Harry and given to Sirius. Harry was happy with that. He felt he had more than enough problems taking care of House Potter. He didn't want another about which to worry.

Harry also received a short note from Sirius with Cygnus's letter where his godfather spent much of the letter apologising to him for not being there for him while he was growing up. Harry didn't know what to decide on that. He was, on one hand, angry with his godfather for letting his emotions rule over his head in letting Hagrid take him that night and deciding to go after Pettigrew instead. On the other hand, he understood that grief can do strange things to a person's cognitive thought processes, and lead a person to do something they would not have done had they been able to, in layman's terms, 'think straight'.

However, Sirius wasn't arrested and taken away until three days _after_ the events of that night. Dumbledore had already dumped baby Harry at the Dursleys by then. It was hard to see how Sirius would have been able to care for Harry if Dumbledore had already unilaterally decided Harry was going to be raised by the Dursleys. And Dumbledore had also claimed magical guardianship over Harry by the time.

No, Harry was angry with his godfather for not being there; but, also understood he really had no choice in the situation. His ability and desire to raise Harry was stolen from him. Harry would discuss it with his godfather on the weekend to see if they could come to terms with it, together. He hoped they'd be able to get past the issue and get on with their lives.

A letter from Gran informed him that she hoped to officially be his Regent as of close of business that day. The Wizengamot Administrative Services had accepted the Change of Regency paperwork and were supposed to be formally filing the change to take effect at the beginning of the next formal Wizengamot session.

Harry also received a separate note from Professor Flitwick letting him and Daphne know their 'etiquette club' had been approved by the Headmaster. They were permitted to 'advertise' the club via the House noticeboards in each House common room, and on the school wide noticeboard on the wall outside the entrance to the Great Hall.

Harry handed the note to Daphne and said, "All we have to do now is find a location, such as an abandoned classroom, from where to run the club. I suspect a good location will be found in one of the classrooms on the second or third floors."

Nodding, she replied, "If we're organised quick enough we could hold the first class - club meeting - next Sunday."

"What're your classes this afternoon?" asked Harry, curious.

"Charms with the 'Puffs; and a free period," she replied. "You?"

"History of Magic and free periods," he replied.

"How about during the free period we have together we search for a suitable venue?" she asked.

Nodding, Harry replied, "Alright, sounds good."

Grabbing an apple and an orange and dropping them into his bookbag Harry said, "Time to go, I think. We don't want to be late."

The group nodded and rose to their feet. Together, they walked out of the Great Hall.

In History of Magic Harry checked to make sure that Professor Binns merely droned on as if reading directly from the text before pulling out his parchment, quill and ink.

While he was already building a pretty substantial timeline of events in his own mind around late October and early November 1981, he knew others did not have his skill in being able to do that. He pulled the piece of parchment towards himself and began to write it out.

Sometime 1980 or Early 1981  
- The Potters move to Godric's Hollow and go under the Fidelius Charm.  
Late October 1981  
- Pettigrew becomes the Secret Keeper for the Potters  
31st October 1981  
- The Potters are attacked.  
- Dumbledore 'knows' they're attacked from Hogwarts.  
- Dumbledore sends Hagrid.  
- Snape arrives and leaves, then Hagrid arrives, then Sirius.  
- Hagrid tells Sirius that Dumbledore tells him to take Harry back to Dumbledore (why not James and/or Lily?)  
- Hagrid leaves on Sirius's motorcycle  
31st October 1981  
- Hagrid arrives in the infirmary at Hogwarts with baby Harry  
- Dumbledore and Madam Pomfrey check over baby Harry (neither notice the soul fragment)  
1st November 1981  
- Late. Hagrid arrives at Privett Drive with baby Harry. Dumbledore and McGonagall are waiting. Harry dumped  
3rd November 1981  
- Sirius confronts Pettigrew in Covington. Pettigrew disappears and Sirius is arrested  
5th November 1981  
- The Longbottoms are attacked

Unknown dates  
- (1/2 November 1981?) Dumbledore claims magical guardianship over Harry  
- Dumbledore seals the Potters' Will  
- Dumbledore falsifies? the placement of baby Harry

Questions  
- Why did the Potters move into Potter Cottage instead of remaining at Potter Manor?  
- Why did the Potters agree to go under the Fidelius Charm?  
- How did Dumbledore know the Potters were attacked?  
- How did Dumbledore know Harry had survived and his parents had not?  
- Why did Dumbledore send Hagrid, a man not legally allowed to use magic, into the scene of an attack without backup?  
- Why did Dumbledore send Hagrid and not go himself?  
- Why did Dumbledore tell Hagrid to take baby Harry back to himself instead of taking him to the Longbottoms?  
- Why did Dumbledore place Harry with the Dursleys when he was supposed to go to either the Longbottoms, Sirius, the Greengrasses or the Boneses?  
- Why did Dumbledore seal the Potters' Will?  
- Was Dumbledore aware of the contents of the Will?  
- Did Dumbledore seal other Wills? Why?

Once everything was on parchment it looked quite appalling. If nothing else, the timeline would make questioning Dumbledore over his actions of that time easier. Harry couldn't see a way for the old man to wheedle his way out of it as it proved _all_ the guardians his parents decided for him were still available at the time of the evening of the 31st of October 1981.

He would ask Amelia or Gran to look into what the dates were for three small events for which he didn't have said dates; the date Dumbledore claimed magical guardianship over him, the day he sealed the Potters' Will, and what records were submitted surrounding Harry's placement with the Dursleys. They should be in the records at the Ministry. Maybe. Hopefully. If they weren't it would mean Dumbledore had even more questions to answer.

Grabbing another sheet of parchment, Harry wrote to his Aunt Amelia to ask her to look into it. He'd send it, together with what he wrote of the timeline of events, off with Hedwig after class finished.

Once he was finished writing, Harry looked around the classroom. One Hufflepuff student, Ernie MacMillan, was writing as fast as he could apply quill to ink to paper to ink in an oft repeated cycle. The rest were all actively asleep, or playing games such as noughts and crosses, otherwise known as tic tac toe.

On the Ravenclaw side there were Anthony Goldstein and Mandy Brocklehurst sitting together and taking notes. The rest were apparently sleeping, studying or doing homework. Now that he thought about it, Harry could see that the two Ravenclaws were taking notes _together_. They were comparing what each other included. And, it appeared, the other 'Claws were aware of this.

A glance over at the 'Puffs could see Ernie MacMillan stop writing suddenly and Sheila Whitlock take up where the boy had left off. Obvious the 'Puffs had the same ideas as the 'Claws. A pair from each house were taking the notes for the rest of the class.

Looking at the boy who sat beside him, Michael Corner, Harry asked, "I take it Goldstein and Brocklehurst are taking the notes for the rest of us?

"Yeah," said Michael, "If I remember correctly, Boot and Li are next lesson, then there's McDougal and me, and so on. You're on with your own in a couple of weeks. Sorry, but there's only nine of us."

"Who's idea was this?" asked Harry.

"Dunno," shrugged Michael. "It came up in discussion during dinner last Monday. Someone then came up with a schedule that rotates one on and four off."

"Interesting," replied Harry with bit of a smile. "An effective and efficient use of assets; namely, ourselves." Nodding towards the 'Puffs he asked, "And them?"

"Same idea," said Michael. "However, they're using one person to take notes until that person can no longer use a quill; then, hand it off to the next person."

"Inefficient," said Harry. "However, if it works for them..."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After sending off his letter to Madam Bones, Harry went scouting for a suitable classroom. He wanted one that was airy and spacious. One that had windows, as not all classrooms did. And preferably one on the eastern side of the castle, so the sunlight would not be streaming in through the windows and blinding club members in the afternoons.

After he found a couple on the third floor Harry realised it was time to meet with Daphne. He met up with her in Entrance Hall. Together, they returned to the third floor.

"Well?" he asked opening the door of the first of the classrooms. "What do you think?"

"_Possibly_ adequate, Potter," she sniffed with a slight smile looking at him askance.

'Oh!' he thought. 'Want to play, do we?'

He immediately adopted the obsequious used car salesman mien. "If my lady would care to step within I shall be _most_ happy to demonstrate why I feel my lady would be most pleased with this choice."

Daphne took two paces into the classroom and looked around. Harry followed her in and stepped around her.

"The third floor, my lady, as you would expect of course, is the most prized upon which other clubs seek to establish their home," he smarmed. "The third floor allows easy and near equal access - as much as one can expect with Hogwarts of course - to all four common rooms of the Houses.

"Secondly, the third floor means the clubroom is far enough above ground to not be affected by the cold in winter. And yet low enough not to be bothered by the heat of summer."

Walking towards the deep-set windows he said, "As my lady can see this particular model comes equipped with a large and ornate window allowing views of both the northern banks of the lake and across the Forbidden Forest in the near distance, all the way to the rolling countryside beyond in the far distance.

"As the window is on the eastern side of the castle it, of course, means the room will flood with morning sun to warm it for the day; and provide light, without blinding sunrays, in the afternoons when we hope to run our club meetings."

Moving back to the centre of the room, he continued, "The room is currently unfurnished, so allows us the opportunity to furnish it as we wish. I'm assured the blackboard can be repaired by the house elves, and they can also provide the furnishings we need.

"As for furnishings, I was hoping the low desk option with comfortable chairs appeals to you, rather than benches with high chairs such as found in the potions lab and charms classroom. If it pleases, my lady, I recommend a U-shape arrangement of desks to facilitate conversation among the club members."

"Well," said Daphne, appearing to think hard, "I believe we shall take it." Before adopting a stern mien, "Of course, it will need to be properly cleaned and serviced before I'm willing to run our little club from here."

"Of course, my lady; of course," replied Harry in full sycophantic mode and repeatedly bowing most humbly.

That was it for Daphne. She cracked up laughing.

"Alright," she giggled, raising her hands in the air. "You got me. And, yes, this one will do very nicely."

Harry grinned back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After once again visiting Professor Flitwick and letting him know which classroom they chose as first preference, they headed for the library to meet with the others. The professor said he would ensure the elves cleaned and readied the room for them.

"I confess to being unsure if they will be able to locate sufficient similar, if not identical, pieces of classroom furniture for you," said the professor.

"Actually, it might be best if they don't," mused Harry. "By looking like a whole bunch of cast-offs it won't look like a formal classroom."

"And, as it won't look like a formal classroom," continued Daphne, "the members won't feel like they're students in a class."

"Precisely," replied Harry.

"In that case," said the Professor, bringing the impromptu meeting to an end, "I'll make sure the elves are aware of that need. And I'll ensure you're notified directly by the elves once the room is ready for you."

"Thank you, Professor," they both said, leaving the office.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The seven were just finished packing away their school works when a house elf popped in between Harry and Daphne.

A little startled, at first, Harry didn't get a chance to ask what it wanted before Daphne beat him to it. "Yes?" she asked.

The house elf replied, "The classroom young Master and Miss be asking for is now being ready."

"Thank you," said Daphne before the little house elf popped away again.

Hermione, mouth gaping open, was looking at the spot where the house elf had stood. "Wh - what was _that_?" she asked.

"That was a house elf, Hermione," replied Daphne. "They work here to take care of the needs of the students and staff."

The seven began to make their way to the Great Hall.

"They're - they're not _slaves_, are they?" asked Hermione in a voice tinged with accusation as they walked.

"Certainly not!" huffed Daphne. "They're servants who live in a symbiotic relationship with wizardkind. Working for witches and wizards makes them happy and strengthens their magic. In return, they - borrow from the magic of witches and wizards to whom they're bonded."

"Or," continued Harry, "if not bonded to a specific witch or wizard, they can be bonded to a family as a whole. Or even, as is the case with the elves of Hogwarts, to a specific place; so long as it is magical enough."

"So," said an unsure Hermione, "_not_ slaves then?"

"No," replied Susan. "We treat _our_ family elves with respect. However, there are _some_ families that treat them most appallingly. The Malfoys are one such example. Thankfully, they're few and far between."

Shocked, and not a little outraged, Hermione asked, "Can't _something_ be done for them?" Before she went on, "I mean, we have the RSPCA, the Royal Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals, to ensure pets and other creatures are not treated badly. And that those who do are prosecuted."

"No," replied Susan, again. "There are no laws in place to ensure house elves are treated well. Though I, for one, wish there was."

"And that house elf that came to talk to Harry and Daphne?" asked Hermione.

"One of the ones that work here at Hogwarts," replied Harry. "It came to let us know the meeting room for our etiquette club is ready."

Daphne explained, "We told Professor Flitwick which vacant classroom we wanted to use, and he had the house elves working to get it how we wanted it. The elf was just letting us know that they were finished."

"And, when can we see this wonderful new clubroom - house - whatever?" asked Tracey.

"How about we take you to see it after dinner?" asked Daphne.

"Yeah! Thanks! I'd like that," replied Tracey, happily.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	16. Meeting Dumbles

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen – Meeting Dumbles**

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-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After dinner, Harry and Daphne led the other five up the grand staircase to the third floor and down towards the classroom they'd selected.

"Aren't you afraid of the 'painful death' the headmaster told us about last Monday night?" asked Hermione.

"Huh?" asked Harry, stopping suddenly and turning around. This brought the whole group to a halt.

Giving his head a bit of a shake he asked the Gryffindor girl, "I'm sorry? What were you talking about?"

"Last Monday night, just as dinner was about to be served, the Headmaster made an announcement," she explained. "He said stay away from the third floor corridor on the left unless you want to suffer a horrible and painful death."

"Why the bloody hell would he say something like that?" asked Harry.

"Language! And, I have no idea," replied Hermione. "But it's what he said."

"Alright," he said firmly. "We'll go and check it out after we check out the new club house."

"Harry, it's forbidden!" said Hermione shocked.

"Not according to what you said, Hermione," replied Harry firmly. "Look at it this way; according to what you just said, it's quite alright for me to go to the third floor corridor on the left if I actually _do_ want to die a horrible and painful death. Who's to say I don't?"

"I..." she stuttered. "But..."

"Precisely," said Harry. "Dumbledore has been speaking in public for many decades. He's been on the Wizengamot since he was awarded his Order of Merlin First Class. He _knows_ how to string a coherent sentence together. He _knows_ how to say something so it's not misinterpreted. He would not have made it to the position of Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, if he did not have that particular talent. He would not have made it to the position of Supreme Mugwump, either."

Hermione, as well as a few others in their little group, thought hard about that.

"Hermione," tried Harry again. "If he didn't want students to go into that corridor, then he would only have had to place wards up that blocked access. Him saying don't go there, without ensuring children _can't_ get in there, is akin to waving a red flag to a bull.

"No, he wants kids to go and have a look. I daresay there's already been a few individuals who have done precisely that. For what ever reason he's got, he's got something there he wants someone to find."

"While that's food for thought," said Daphne, changing the subject. "We've still got a clubroom to investigate. Shall we?"

They all gave a nod as Harry turned back to the direction they were heading and led the way.

Not far along the hallway Harry stopped outside a plain, unornamented door.

"And - here we are," he said, opening the door.

Neither he nor Daphne had yet seen the room after the elves applied their magic to it. However, as the two hosts, he and Daphne waited for the other five to enter the room first, before following them in.

The only clue the two had to how good the room looked was by the sounds of appreciation their friends were making.

Once inside, he and Daphne had to step around their friends to get a good look at the room. Both were quite shocked by what they found.

As expected, the elves had cleaned the room out completely, repaired the fixtures, and refurnished. However, the efforts of the elves went beyond that. The room was given a 'make over' with a thorough cleaning. The blackboard, not just repaired, was also given a fresh coat of paint. And there was fresh chalk sitting on the chalk shelf directly below the board.

The gas light fittings had all been repaired, cleaned and polished. Missing lamp covers were replaced. The lights within gave the room a bright appearance.

The once bare window now had drapes of a rich blue with gold trim.

Desks that looked quite unlike student desks were arranged in a horseshoe shape around the room. Many were of different varieties. Chairs that more resembled armchairs than student chairs were placed at each desk. Again, most were subtly different from the others.

However, each chair was trimmed identically in rich blue with a subtle pattern which reminded Harry of paisley. There were about thirty six sets of desk and chair arranged this way.

In the middle of the floor was a large gold throw rug that almost reached the desks on either side.

On each side of the window, but far enough from the window not to appear to be boxing it in, were two tall bookcases. Each book case appeared to be two-thirds filled with books.

Hermione had already approached the bookcase and was browsing through one of the books. "Harry, these are all mainly on wizarding traditions and etiquette," she said. "This is _amazing_!"

Harry was gobsmacked. It was far better than even _he_ could have imagined. Glancing over at Daphne he could see from her expression she felt the same way.

"Wow!" said Tracey. "This is - wow!"

Everyone else could only silently agree for a few moments before Daphne said, "I guess our etiquette club is really going to happen."

Snapping out of his own surprise, Harry said, "Well, it looks like we're set for about thirty six people. I hope that's not too much."

Looking up from where she was returning a book to a bookshelf, Hermione said, "I think you'll find it'd be more accurate to wonder if it's enough. You might not get thirty six people attending at the first meeting but, once people hear about this place, places will fill fast."

"If we do," said Daphne, "I'm sure we can get the elves to add more desks and chairs. This is one of the biggest classrooms I've seen in the castle, and there's still room to add a second ring of desks and chairs outside of the first."

Over at the far side of the room near the wall with the blackboard, Hermione called, "Hey, come and have a look at this."

The group, curious, walked over and saw Hermione standing in front of another door. It bore a small wooden sign that said 'Office'.

"I don't remember that being there," said Harry.

"No, I remember there being a stack of old school furniture in this corner, though," replied Daphne.

"Well," said Harry, "we'd best have a look, then."

He stepped forward and opened the door. Stepping in, he saw two office desks facing each other in the middle of the room. At each was an office chair. Standing against the opposite wall was a large ornate filing cabinet.

Harry walked over and opened the filing cabinet to find it empty.

"Hello," said a voice. "It's glad I am to see someone has decided to make use of this old classroom again; even if you _are_ children."

Turning towards the sound of the voice, Harry saw a portrait of a stern man hanging on the wall smiling at him.

"Hello," he said. "Ummm - we asked Professor Flitwick, my Head of House, if we could set up a club to teach mainly muggleborns about wizarding etiquette and traditions. The classroom out there is what we got. We didn't even know this office was here until the classroom was cleaned up."

"So I've been informed, young man," replied the portrait. "As you seem not to know, this office is provided to be the office for your club."

Hearing a noise, Harry turned around and found the others had also come into the room and were having a look around.

"Wow!" said Neville. "I bet you didn't expect this!"

"No, no we didn't," replied Harry. Turning back to the portrait, he said, "And, pardon, but what do we call you?"

Smiling, the man said, "I believe you meant to enquire, 'And to whom do I owe the pleasure?'"

Blinking and blushing a little, Harry replied with a small bow, "My apologies. You are, of course, entirely correct. To whom do I owe the pleasure, Sir?"

"I am Carwyn Thomaset," replied the portrait, proudly. "I was a Professor, here at Hogwarts, in the 1800s."

"What did you teach, Professor?" asked Harry.

With a wide smile the portrait of the ex-Professor replied, "I taught Social Studies of the Wizarding World. In other words, I taught a lot of what you're trying to accomplish here. That's why I volunteered to hang in here for a while."

"Volunteered?" asked Tracey. "You can do that?"

"Well it isn't a dictatorship, young lady," replied the portrait. "However, when it was learned someone wanted to make a go at setting up a club to teach muggleborns wizarding life and etiquette, even though it has been attempted before and has failed, I thought I'd volunteer to hang in this office and provide service.

"That way, I can also guide you in your planning of classes and may be able to assist in answering any questions you find too difficult. That is, of course, if you choose to hear my counsel."

"Your kind offer, Professor, was not anticipated," replied Harry. "Professor Flitwick required us to provide a curriculum overview for what we want to do. However, we have not gone into detail for each session at this stage."

Speaking up, Daphne said, "Plus, we only anticipate holding one meeting a fortnight during school terms. Meaning we should only be meeting a total of about eighteen to twenty times over the course of each year. Are you sure you won't be bored, Professor?"

Smiling, the portrait replied, "It's good of you to ask, my Lady. However, this portrait is only my 'home' frame. I, as are many other portraits throughout the castle, am quite capable of visiting other areas through other portraits. I'll be fine."

With a glance at Harry, Daphne said, "In that case, Professor, welcome."

After saying their goodbyes to the portrait of Professor Thomaset, the group returned to the new club room.

"You do know," said Neville, "once those clever enough come to the first couple of meetings and return to their common rooms start to tell others about what you two will be teaching in here, you'll very soon get a whole lot more people wanting to come along."

"Yeah," replied Harry. "And, if Hermione's right, I'm just hoping we can fit them all in."

As the last one out the door, Harry pulled the door closed behind him.

'I'll have to see about how I can get a magical lock for that,' he mused. 'And for the office door. We can't just have people going in there whenever they want.'

Shortly thereafter, the seven broke to return to their own common rooms.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning's breakfast saw many owls for both Harry and Daphne, but none that were booby-trapped. There was even an official letter from the DMLE informing them both that the culprits of the previous morning's mail bombing had been identified and already spoken to concerning their actions. The letter asked Harry how he wanted them to proceed against the perpetrators.

Harry responded to the letter stating he wanted the senders of the howlers warned and that, if they tried anything again, charges would be pressed. He also wrote he wanted the ones who sent the booby-trapped mail, especially the one containing the bubotuber pus, to be formally charged.

While not much may come of the charges, the perpetrators would know not to mess with Harry Potter or his betrothed in future. It sent a message right back.

As he and the others were finalising their breakfasts, Harry felt himself dreading a little his first potions class. It was his first class for the day and was a double. Breakfast sat heavily in his stomach.

Walking down to the dungeons Harry caught up with Susan and Hannah and asked, "Ladies, are there any students in our soon to be oh-so-enjoyable session of brewing potions who has yet to find a partner?"

Glancing back at him, Hannah replied, "Sorry, Harry; I wouldn't know."

"Me neither," replied Susan.

"I spent both classes last week keeping my head down and doing the work," said Hannah. "The man scares me."

"Me too," said Susan.

Harry smiled.

"Ladies, thank you for the information," he said. "I can see I'm in for a fun-filled morning with the greasy bat of the dungeon."

Harry and the girls arrived about five minutes before Snape opened the door and barked, "Inside. Take your seats. Cauldrons and scales out."

Harry waited back until everyone else filed in. He waited until he saw a vacant seat next to - no one. 'Oh, yes,' thought Harry. 'There's only nine in the First Year cohort for the 'Puffs. So one of the 'Puffs sat with the spare 'Claw.'

Looking around, Harry spied a vacant station and made his way to it. 'At least on my own I can just make the stupid potion and not be held back while someone reads and translates the recipe,' he thought as he brought forth his potions equipment out of book bag, together with the books _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger and the one Daphne recommended he use as the reference guide.

Okay, he didn't actually need either book on the bench at his workstation, having already memorised both, but having them on the bench implied he needed them.

While Harry was setting his bookbag on the floor next to his stool, Snape ascended his little dais, spun on the spot, glared at Harry and said, "Ah, Mister Potter, our newest celebrity. Tell me, Mister Potter, what would I get if I added root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

"A soggy mess," replied Harry with a shrug. "However, they're two of the main ingredients in the Draught of the Living Death, Sir; a Third Year potion."

"Where would you look if you wanted to find a bezoar?" asked the surprised Potions Master, not expecting a correct answer.

"In the stomach of a goat, Sir," replied Harry. "If ingested quickly enough after being poisoned a bezoar is a fast and effective way of curing most such poisonings."

"And what, pray tell, is the difference between monkshood and Wolfsbane?"

"The colour and shape of the flower, Sir," replied Harry. "They're two variations of the same family of plant."

"Very good, Mister Potter," said Snape with no sign of a sneer. "It appears you have been studying ahead. I wonder if you can keep it up."

Snape then turned to the class and said, "For today you will be making Burn Salve Paste. Madam Pomfrey has informed me her supplies are running low. For those few who make a halfway decent batch, you may find your fellow students using what you've made sometime during the year. Jars will be offered, by me, at each station that manages to get something as simple as this right.

"The instructions are on page 82 of Jiggers and on the board." With an almost negligent wave of his wand, the instructions for the Salve appeared on the board. "Get to work. You have ninety minutes."

Harry waited a few moments as he saw other students go to a cabinet off to the side and collect supplies, and followed them. He was soon back at his station with the necessary ingredients.

He first used a clean cloth to wipe over the inside of his cauldron, his stirring rod, his scales, the cutting board and the ingredient knife. He could tell that Snape was watching him but made sure to take his time in ensuring everything was clean.

Once he was ready, he began.

The potion was a relatively simple one but was, actually, an advanced First Year brew. There were a couple of steps that could have proven dangerous if every step was not carried out precisely.

However, Harry was not the sort to rush. Rushing just increased the risk. And he had plenty of time.

At around the seventy-five minute mark Harry looked up and could see Snape staring back at him. When their eyes met the Professor gave a small nod of his head towards the end of Harry's workstation. There, Harry could see an empty jar sitting on a piece of parchment.

Reaching across, Harry snagged the jar and brought it to himself. He, again, drew out his cleaning cloth and wiped the jar and lid inside and out while he read the parchment. It was details of a nine inch assignment on the uses of Hellebore in potions.

As Hellebore was one of the ingredients in Harry's other book, he figured he could get the assignment knocked over in about an hour.

He carefully scooped the slightly yellowish goop out of his cauldron into the jar. Once the jar was full, he screwed the lid into place, and placed the jar on his workstation.

At that point, Snape came over, picked up his jar, peered at the contents through the clear glass and nodded his head. Drawing his wand out, the Professor caused to appear the words Burn Salve on the side of the jar and on the lid.

Turning to Harry he quietly said, "Clean up your workstation and you may leave quietly," before he carried the jar with him back to his desk.

It only took Harry a few minutes to clean everything back up; carrying his cauldron, stirring rod, cutting board and ingredient knife to the sink; and returning the unused ingredients to the cabinet.

Once done, he quietly left. He wondered where the looming, sneering and taking of points for 'blinking too loudly' were that other students had told him about. For all he looked, Harry couldn't see it.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Knowing he now had a break until lunch, Harry made his way to the Ravenclaw common room and on into his dorm. There, he carefully cleaned his scales before packing them back away in his trunk. And used the opportunity to grab his transfiguration text for the first class after lunch.

Grabbing his transfiguration text '_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_', Harry walked down to the Great Hall and sat at the Ravenclaw table. He was pretending to read through it while munching on an apple when he was joined by Susan and Hannah.

"Harry," began Hannah, "How on _Earth_ did you manage to get that burn salve made so fast when there was just you working?"

"By thinking about what I needed to do and doing it," replied Harry. "I simply went through each step of what needed to be done and organised myself so that neither I, nor the potion, was sitting idle at any time."

"Well, it sure looked like you impressed the _Hell_ out of Professor Snape," said Susan. "He was watching you like a hawk; _and_ taking notes."

"It was also the most calm potion's class of the three we've had," said Hannah. "It took me almost half an hour before I realised I was actually enjoying myself."

Nodding, Susan said, "He didn't sneer at anyone, he didn't yell, he didn't take points for silly reasons, he didn't hover over anyone; he just moved around the class watching everyone and didn't say a word while we were working."

"Yeah, but most of the time he was walking around he was only watching Harry," said Hannah. "It was like he was - stalking his prey."

Harry just snorted with laughter. "Then it appears I disappointed him by not doing anything wrong."

"No" said Susan, contradicting him. "It was more like - he was waiting for you to make a mistake. However, when he figured out you weren't going to; he began to watch what you were doing _right_. That's when he returned to his desk, pulled out the parchment and began to write down some of the things you were doing."

"So he noticed I wasn't following the exact steps of the recipe," said Harry. "I did things in a slightly different order."

Recognising the look Hannah was giving him, he said, "I don't mean I mixed in the ingredients differently. I mean I _prepared_ the ingredients in a different order. I made better use of my time. If Snape was writing down what I was doing, I think that's what he was writing down.

"If you think about it, it makes sense he'd do that," he said. "Not only does he teach, he's the school's potions master. That means he's responsible for providing potions for the infirmary. Something like I was doing that would save him time would be like gold to him."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After an afternoon class on transfiguration, again with the 'Puffs, Harry and the gang headed for the library to clear away their homework. They were joined by Daphne, Tracey and Neville not long after arriving.

"Did anyone notice the schedules are up for first flying lessons?" asked Neville, as soon as he sat down.

"Flying lessons?" asked Hermione. "On brooms, right?"

"Yes, Hermione," replied Daphne. "On brooms."

Nodding, Neville said, "We're second up with the Slytherins at 3.30pm on Thursday. Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw are at 2.00pm immediately before us and after lunch."

"I take it these lessons are mandatory?" asked Harry, remembering Daphne and Astoria taught him the basics of riding a broom the day before they boarded the Hogwarts Express.

"Yeah, and I'm not looking forward to it," replied Neville a little dejectedly. "I don't like riding brooms. My Uncle Algie tried to teach me the basics and I was pants at it."

"Once you get the basics it's actually a whole lot of fun," said Tracey. "It took me a while to get the hang of it. But, once I did, I now think it's an enjoyable way to spend a few hours on a warm day."

"Anyway," said Hermione. "Homework."

With a bit of good-natured ribbing of the driven girl, the group were soon researching and writing assignments.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At dinner, the group decided to sit at the Slytherin table. Something they hadn't done for a while.

The group were just winding up their desserts when Professor Flitwick walked up and handed Harry a note. Opening it he found he'd been summoned to the Headmasters office. Professor Flitwick would escort him.

Frowning, Harry showed the note to the group.

"I wonder what he wants," said Daphne.

"Well, whatever it is, I want witnesses," replied Harry. "Care to join me?"

"Why not," she replied. "Someone you trust should be there with you."

Thinking a bit, Harry asked, "Does Wizarding Britain have laws against witness tampering?"

Frowning, she asked, "What's that?"

"It's when someone who is involved as a witness in a forthcoming, or running, trial is approached by one of the parties involved in the trial, normally the accused, and attempts to sway the testimony of the witness in their favour," he replied.

Looking a little shocked, she replied, "I'm - not sure. Daddy would know."

"Auntie definitely would," said Susan.

"Well, I can't really refuse to go because he's the Headmaster," said Harry. "He may just be wanting to talk to me in his role as Headmaster. But, anything along those lines should be discussed through my Head of House, Professor Flitwick. There should be no reason he would involve himself in that sort of thing unless, whatever it is, couldn't be resolved through my Head of House first."

"And there's nothing like that you're aware of?" asked Tracey.

"No," replied Harry, frowning. "Unless it has to do with the club. I think it _would_ be wise for you to join me, Daphne."

"As do I," she softly replied.

Looking at the head table, Harry could see the headmaster already seemed to have left.

A few minutes later the dishes were cleared away and Harry and Daphne approached Professor Flitwick.

"Ready to go, Mister Potter?" the Professor asked.

"Yes, Sir," replied Harry.

"Very well," the Professor said, hopping down off his chair and walking towards the end of the table.

Harry and Daphne met him there. And, together, they made their way out of the Great Hall.

As they were walking, Harry asked the Professor, "What is this about, Professor?"

"I have no idea, Mister Potter," he replied. "I only know the Headmaster asked me to give you a note informing you he wanted to see you after the meal in his office."

"This is highly suspect, Sir," said Harry firmly. "I cannot conceive a valid reason for the Headmaster to summon me to his office."

"He _is_ the Headmaster, Mister Potter," replied the Professor.

"That is irrelevant, Sir," said Harry. "He is as bound by the rules of the school as myself."

Changing the subject, Harry asked, "Are you aware he is currently facing trial due to his actions relating to me in the early 1980's?"

That caused the little Professor to stutter his step a little. "Yes, of course, Mister Potter."

"As I am a prime witness in that forthcoming trial, are you also aware that Albus Dumbledore summoning me to his office to - chat - could be seen by some parties as an attempt to influence my testimony?" asked Harry.

"Errr..." stammered the Professor. "No, Mister Potter; I did not consider that possibility."

"Then I strongly suggest you do, Professor," said Harry firmly. "Because, you may very well be taking the witness stand yourself over what is happening right here, right now. And over what happens within that office."

"You - think it might come to that?" the Professor half-squeaked.

"The school rules state that when a student is summoned to appear before the Headmaster or Headmistress, they are to be accompanied at all times by their Head of House," replied Harry. "That means, you're going to be in that office with us for the entire time of the - interview.

"I suggest you be very conscious of what your role in this entails. So that, if you are summoned to appear at the forthcoming trial, you will not be seen as guilty of any malfeasance relating to your position within this school. I do not want to see you negatively impacted by this matter, Professor."

After hesitating in replying for a few moments, the Professor said, "So noted, Mister Potter. And, thank you."

Harry, with Daphne still on his arm, noted they were walking down a hallway towards a large stone gargoyle. As they were about to stop, the Professor said to it, "Lemon Drops," and the gargoyle, almost nimbly, stepped aside.

Stepping onto the spiral staircase behind the gargoyle, Harry noticed the stairs start to ascend like a spiral escalator. After a few long seconds the stairs opened onto a landing outside an ornate wooden door.

"Please, come in, Harry," Harry heard called in Dumbledore's voice from the other side of the door.

Harry opened the door and allowed Daphne and the Professor to precede him through into the office beyond. Harry could see the Headmaster sitting behind his desk at the far end of the room.

"Ah, Harry, my boy," called the Headmaster jovially. "So good of you to come."

Before Harry could respond the old man looked to Professor Flitwick and said, "Thank you for escorting Mister Potter, Filius. You and Miss Greengrass may go."

"Thank you, Headmaster," replied the Professor. "But, I'm afraid that won't be possible. Mister Potter reminded me of the school rules where it states that in the event a student is summoned before the Headmaster he or she is to be accompanied by their Head of House for the duration of the meeting. I shall be following my duty and remaining."

"I - see," said Dumbledore, clearly not happy with the response from the Professor. "And, Miss Greengrass? To what do we owe the pleasure of your attendance?"

"Harry is my betrothed; as you well know, Headmaster," she replied with a somewhat aloof air. "I have chosen to accompany him, curious as to why he was summoned with no reason given for said summons."

Hesitating only for a moment Dumbledore gave a dramatic sigh of disappointment and said, "I merely wished to enquire of Mister Potter how he was faring after his ordeal of a little over a week ago."

In a stilted formal voice, Harry replied, "I am well. Thank you for your enquiry, Headmaster. Will that be all?"

With another dramatic sigh Dumbledore said, "Harry, there were quite a few children injured on that night. One of my Professors even died. I need to discuss with you what happened. Now, please take a seat."

He indicated the solitary chair before the desk.

"Headmaster," replied Harry, not moving from where he stood. "As you are no doubt aware, it would be rude for a gentleman to take seat while a Lady stands."

"Of course," replied Dumbledore. With a gesture of his wand a second seat appeared alongside the first.

Harry took a long look at the chairs before turning to Professor Flitwick. "It appears, Professor, the Headmaster expects you to take care of your own arrangements to sit."

Harry then guided Daphne to a chair before taking the other.

"Now, Harry, I need you to step me through what happened that..." began the Headmaster before Daphne interrupted him.

"Excuse me, Headmaster," she firmly said. "But, I was not aware my betrothed has given you leave to use his first name in so offhanded a manner. You are aware, no doubt, that to do so without leave is high insult?"

"Errr - yes, Miss Greengrass," stuttered the Headmaster. "I meant no disrespect. I was, of course, Harry's - Mister Potter's magical guardian for almost ten years..."

"And in all that time spent no more than about an hour of time with him," she interrupted again. "And, even then, that was when he was but a small infant. I hardly see how that gives you leave to disrespect him now."

Though the old man's expression didn't change, Harry noticed how his eyes suddenly appeared to go flat. The twinkle that was there had now gone.

"Again, my apologies, Miss Greengrass, Mister Potter," he said before rearranging himself more comfortably in his seat. "Now, about that night. Please step me through what happened in your own words."

"No, thank you, Headmaster," replied Harry in a cool tone. "I do not wish to relive that night. If there's anything you want to know it will be covered in the extensive report held by the DMLE for which you, I believe, have access."

"I really wanted to hear it in your own words, Ha.. Mister Potter," said the Headmaster, eyes twinkling away again.

"And, as I've already clearly told you, I have no wish to relive that night," replied Harry firmly.

"I'm afraid I must insist, Mister Potter," said the Headmaster just as firmly.

"Headmaster," spat Harry, starting to lose his temper. "I don't give a flying rats arse _what_ you insist upon. You don't seem to understand you have _no_ authority to _make_ such an insistence and expect it to be obeyed. Your incredible level of hubris has apparently blinded your cognizance to reality!"

Dumbledore stared back with a look of stunned shock.

"For someone who carries themself as the so-called 'Leader of the Light', your actions as they relate to me over the past decade identify you as little more than a nascent _Dark Lord_!" ranted Harry. "How anyone could _possibly_ think that kidnapping a defenceless, recently-orphaned infant from their rightful guardian before then _dumping_ said infant on a doorstep, far from his rightful home, in the middle of a cold autumnal night, was not an evil and despicable act frankly defies rational thought!

"No, _Headmaster_; it is _I_ who should be doing the _insisting_ here. And I insist _you_ tell _me_ just what the bloody hell you thought you were _doing?_"

Throughout Harry's rant Dumbledore sat there unmoving. His eyes were wide and his skin tone pale. After a long few seconds Dumbledore's whole body seemed to collapse in upon itself. His chin dropped towards his chest.

Looking back up and taking a deep breath Dumbledore said, "What I did was for the Greater Good. Placing you with the sister of your mother and her family meant you could be hidden safe behind blood wards. The sacrifice your mother made that saved your life on that night could be transferred to the home of your aunt and her family. You were safe there."

"_Bullshit!_" yelled Harry. "Has it utterly slipped your mind I was beaten and abused there? You've seen the evidence. You know the truth. I was _not _safe there!"

"The blood wards protect you from Voldemort's followers," tried Dumbledore. "They protected you from those in the wizarding world who meant to do you harm. I did what I did for your protection."

"And did _nothing_ to protect me from those _outside_ the wizarding world; from my own so-called family!" snarled Harry. "_You_ claimed magical guardianship over me, Dumbledore. It was your claimed _responsibility_ to ensure I wasn't being mistreated while housed with the Dursleys. You never checked up on me - You _failed_ in your duty - Something for which I pray you will answer come Monday."

"Har... Mister Potter, I'm afraid you're too young to understand there..."

"Too young, you say?" cut in Harry. "Then how about the counsel of ones even wiser than you. One of this planet's greatest philosophers, a man who is still well known and read these two thousand years later for his wisdom, Plato of Ancient Greece, said, 'This, and no other, is the root from which a tyrant springs; when he first appears he is a protector.'

"And a great man of the early part of this century, Clive Staples Lewis, an author and an academic like yourself from one of the greatest establishments of learning in the world, said, 'Of all the tyrannies, a tyranny exercised for the good of its victims may be the _most_ oppressive. It may be better to live under robber barons than under _omnipotent moral busybodies_. The robber baron's cruelty may sometimes sleep, his cupidity may at some point be satiated; but those who torment us for _our own good_ will torment us without end, for they do so with the approval of their own conscience.'

"The type of person both great men were speaking about, Dumbledore, was you! Your so-called 'Greater Good' is no more than you _lying_ to your own conscience, attempting to justify yourself an excuse for your self-aggrandisement.

"I'm fully aware, Dumbledore, there are a great many people out there who believe you can do no wrong. However, as Mahatma Ghandi, a famous Indian philosopher, once said, 'An error does not become truth by reason of multiplied propagation, nor does truth become error because nobody sees it.'

After glaring back at the ashen-faced silent Headmaster for a few more moments, Harry said, "Too young to understand, you say? I understand _far_ more than you give me credit." He turned to Daphne and said, "Come, my Lady; I believe it's time we take our leave."

He stood and assisted Daphne to stand alongside him. Moving aside from the chairs on which they sat, he turned to Professor Flitwick and said, "Thank you for your attendance, this evening, Professor. My Lady and I will be leaving.

"And just so you know, _Albus!_ I'll be reporting to Madam Bones, acting in her role as prosecutor, that you sought to interview me _in private_, this night," he snarled. "And, as it is _highly_ likely I'll be a witness for the prosecution against you come Monday, she may wish to press even more charges against you for what could _easily_ be perceived as _witness tampering_!"

That, clearly, startled the Headmaster. It was obvious he hadn't thought of that.

Professor Flitwick gave a small shocked but curt nod before hopping down off a small stool he'd conjured and led them out of the office.

None looked back.

"You're going _dark_, Harry," called the Headmaster, almost as an after thought.

Stopping for a moment, Harry turned back and said, "I was physically and mentally abused in that house, Headmaster; for nigh on ten years. It was all I ever knew; all I ever expected. That can change a person. It changed me.

"I'm not _going_ dark, Headmaster. I'm _already_ dark. And it's _all_ because of you and your interference in the wishes of my parents." He then turned back to the door and left with the other two.

After they'd left, Professor Snape stepped out of the private quarters off the office. He walked across to a tall cabinet and, after opening one of the doors at the top of the cabinet, drew out a bottle of firewhiskey.

He carried the bottle back to the desk. After conjuring two tumbler glasses on the edge of the desk he poured a healthy measure of the firewhiskey into each glass.

Still without uttering a word, he picked up one glass and placed it before the headmaster. The other he picked up for himself and moved to sit in the chair Daphne had recently vacated. He waited while sipping from the glass.

After a few more moments Dumbledore softly asked, "Did he speak the truth, Severus? Have I been lying to myself all these years?"

"_That_ is for _you_ to decide, Headmaster," came back the calm reply. "As I have told you in the past, the boy is an attention seeking brat!"

"He most certainly is _not_, Severus," snarled the Headmaster. "If you saw what I saw during the trial of his aunt and uncle, last Monday, you would hang your head with shame for that remark."

"Now, what did you find out?" grumbled the old man.

"His mind is fully occluded," replied Snape. "If I attempted to break through his shields he would have instantly known of the attempt."

"I see," replied the old man. "That is - troubling."

"And surprising in one so young," said Snape.

Out in the hallway leading away from the stone gargoyle, Daphne quietly asked, "Is it true, Harry? Have you gone dark?"

Harry gave her hand a pat where it rested in the crook of his elbow. "No. But, it's _sure_ going to mess with his head while he tries to think it through."

Daphne gave a small chuckle in response.

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	17. First Club

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventeen – First Club**

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Two days later, Harry was out on the castle lawns near the dark tower with the First Year Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs. Madam Hooch had laid out twenty brooms side by side on the ground roughly four feet apart.

As Harry walked out onto the grass he saw that many of his fellow students had already arrived.

"Alright, you lot," called Madam Hooch. "I want you to each stand alongside a broom with the broom on your right. Move, now."

Harry stood between Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah with Susan on the other side of Hannah.

"Place your hand out over your broom, palm down," commanded Madam Hooch. "And, with a firm and commanding tone, order, 'Up!'."

Doing as instructed, Harry held his hand out over his broom and called, "Up!"

The broom leapt up from the ground and the broom handle smacked him in his palm. The surprise of it caused him to teeter a little in place.

While Harry felt the magic of the broom thrum through his hand he looked around. He could see Justin trying to order the broom that lay twitching on the grass next to him to rise to his own hand. And he could see both Hannah and Susan had, after a couple of attempts, managed to get theirs to rise enough to be grabbed.

Harry turned to Justin and quietly said, "It knows you're afraid of it, Mister Finch-Fletchley. Relax. Let your magic flow through your hand as if you're casting a Lumos Charm. Just let it flow."

Justin gave him a grateful smile and returned his attention to his hand and broom. "Up!" he calmly commanded, and the broom leapt off the grass into his hand.

With, at first, a look of shock he turned to Harry with a wide smile.

Harry didn't know Madam Hooch was paying attention to what he'd been saying to Justin until he heard her call, "Good coaching, Mister Potter. Five points to Ravenclaw."

Turning to face back forward he smiled at Madam Hooch.

The witch took one last look around and said, "For those who have not yet mastered commanding your broom to come to your hand, you may practice it later. For now, I want you to pick it up and hold it in your right hand."

Out of twenty students, about half a dozen had to manually pick their brooms up.

"Now, I want you to straddle your broom like this," she said, demonstrating.

Once everyone had done the same she said, "Now give a gentle push off the ground and hover in place."

With a gentle nudge of his toes Harry rose into the air and hovered about five feet up. Others joined him along the line. He knew that, though doing something like just rising and hovering looked easy, it was actually quite difficult. It was far easier to keep momentum going, similar to riding a bike.

Looking to his left and down he noticed Justin would get the push off the ground right, but would immediately nose his broom forward forcing it back to the ground.

Harry dropped down and said, "Push off and hold, Mister Finch-Fletchley. Don't push down on the nose of the broom so hard, or at all until you're at height."

Justin gave him a grateful nod and, with a frown, tried again. This time he rose before he suddenly started to descend again. However, he caught the drop before he returned to the ground by pulling back up on the handle. He rose to bob in place alongside Harry.

With a grin he said, "Some brooms can be a little touchy to control. But, once you understand it's vagaries, it'll come more naturally for you.

"Now, controlling the broom is as much about steering and guiding it with your magic as with your hands and your - seat. _Feel_ the broom and guide it."

Before long Madam Hooch had them circling in ever expanding circles with weaves thrown in. They reversed course a couple of times and even performed a couple lazy figure eights. But it wasn't long before they were back on the ground.

As soon as they were dismissed, Justin man-hugged Harry. "Thank you, Harry!" he said. "I don't think I'd've been able to do that if it wasn't for you."

"I'm sure you'd have managed, Mister Finch-Fletchley," he replied. "You're far too determined not to succeed at something you want to excel in."

"Maybe," he replied. "But you did make it a lot easier for me."

As they walked back to the castle they were passed by the Gryffindors and Slytherins coming the other way. Harry gave Daphne a big smile which she returned as they passed.

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Later that afternoon, the group met in the library. Looking around, Harry noticed they were three short.

"Where's Neville, Hermione and Tracey?" he asked.

As the only one of that group not missing, Daphne replied, "Neville's broom went wonky and he ended up falling off it and breaking his wrist. Straight after the lesson Tracey and Hermione went to the infirmary to check up on him. Neither have come back yet."

"If Neville _did_ break his wrist then he's going to be in there overnight," said Susan. "Skelegrow Potion tends to be quite uncomfortable while it works and most healers prefer the patients to stay in overnight in case there's complications."

"Malfoy and Weasley managed to earn themselves detentions during the lesson," continued Daphne. "Remember that Remembrall Neville received from his grandmother at breakfast?"

The group nodded.

"Well, he had it on him when he lost control of his broom. Some time during the time his broom was flinging him about the sky he managed to drop it. Malfoy found it after Madam Hooch left with Neville to take him to the infirmary and Malfoy tried to make a big thing out of it.

"Remember how Malfoy was on the train? His snooty attitude?" she asked.

Again nods with a couple of titters from the girls.

"He was going on about Neville supposedly being such a squib he needed one. Then he said he'd leave it in a tree for Neville to find. They he took off up into the air on his broom. Mind you, that was after Madam Hooch told everyone to remain on the ground while she was away.

"Weasley lost his temper, took to his own broom and soared up into the air after him. The two managed to crash into each other and both ended up falling about twenty feet to the ground.

"Oh, dear," said Hannah, while Susan made sympathy noises. "Were either badly hurt?"

"Apparently not," replied Daphne. "But Professor McGonagall must have been watching from a window of the castle because she was down there like a shot. Both now have detention."

Harry snorted in amusement. "Those two are as bad as each other and neither sees it," he said. "One is a bigot because he refuses to see anyone but purebloods being worth his time, unless you're a half blood from a Noble and Most Ancient House; and the other is a bigot because, if you're a Slytherin, then you _have_ to be evil, and all the truly good witches and wizards are in Gryffindor. They're both equally bigoted but coming at it from two different reasons."

"Honestly, Harry; they're nothing..." said Hannah before she stopped suddenly and appeared to think about what she was saying. "Alright, maybe they are," she blushed.

"Enough of bigots and their stupid views," said Susan. "What's happening with your etiquette club?"

"Well, the house elves have put notices on each House notice board to let people know it's on and when and where to find it," replied Daphne. "Tracey saw the one in the Slytherin common room very soon after it appeared and hid it under other notices. We may have to take everyone without favour but that's not to mean we have to be so - public - about the public notices in every House."

"Why do that?" asked Susan.

"Because we don't want people like Malfoy coming along and belittling, browbeating, and otherwise making a nuisance of him or herself, or anything along those lines," replied Daphne.

"He might surprise you, you know?" said Hannah.

"True," replied Harry. "But, as you pointed out, it _would_ be a surprise if he behaved any differently, wouldn't it?"

"We know it will become school-wide public knowledge, soon enough," said Daphne. "But, if we can get a couple of meetings in before someone tries to upset things, then we'll have been able to get off to a good start."

"I guess," said Hannah, but without much conviction.

Daphne reached across and placed her hand over the other girl's. "We're just being cautious, Hannah."

The other girl blushed and nodded.

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On Sunday afternoon at 4.00pm, Harry met with Daphne outside the door to their new clubroom.

"Harry, I can't get the stupid door open," she half-growled.

"Sorry, sorry," he replied. "I asked a couple of Seventh Year muggleborn 'Claws to place wards and magical locks on the door for me. The password is, 'Muggletum'. That drops a very strong Colloportus Charm that's anchored to the door via tiny runes. Besides, I wanted to be here when you first entered to see what we did last night."

Daphne gave him a wry look before turning to the door. In a clear voice, she said, "Muggletum." When she then turned the knob the door opened easily.

She walked in and Harry followed her. He had to walk around her as she'd stopped just inside the door in astonishment at what she saw.

Nervously, Harry asked, "Do you like it?"

"Harry, its WONderful!" she near-squealed before jumping at him for a grapple-hug.

"_Oof!_" he exclaimed. "I'm glad you like it."

Arranged around the walls at a height just above the top of the blackboard was the House Crests of all the Magical Houses in Wizarding Britain, including quite a few Daphne didn't recognise. Each was approximately two feet in height sitting on a white background with the name of the House on a picture of a stylised furled banner directly underneath in old English script.

On the back wall was a large chart with the formal name of the Houses, followed by the current names of the Heads of those Houses, their spouse if there was one, followed by the name of the current Heir. Where necessary the title to go with the name was also present.

Harry had also found somewhere, or had the elves find them for him, a row of dressmakers dummies arrayed along the back wall. One was adorned with the robes of the Wizengamot, one in formal Lord's robes with a House Crest, one in formal Lady's robes with a House Crest, one in an old version of the Hogwarts school uniform, and one in the formal robes of the United Kingdom's House of Lords.

Stepping back Daphne continued to look around while Harry grabbed a small, wooden sign on a wooden post with four small legs from just near the door. Showing it to her, Daphne could see the words 'Etiquette Club' emblazoned in large gold old English script on it's surface.

Harry carried it just outside the door into the middle of the hallway and placed it so those walking down the hallway could see it.

Stepping back inside he said, "They should be able to see that from the grand staircase, so they know where to come.

"As for when this was done; it was last night," he said. "The Head Boy this year is both a Ravenclaw and a muggleborn. When I asked for his help, after showing him the material we showed Professor Flitwick, he was real excited to give of his time and skills. He was even the one who convinced the _other_ Seventh Year, another muggleborn, to give us a hand.

"So, we planned this over the past couple of days after curfew. And, last night, the three of us came down here and got it all done."

"But _where_ did you find the formal robes and the dressmaker dummies and stuff?" she asked.

"I've no idea," replied Harry. "I told the elves what I wanted as a general concept and they said they'd see what was in storage. Apparently there's very little thrown out from Hogwarts; the house elves have somewhere to store everything. Plus, there's some things that are lost or get discarded; and the elves store that stuff, too.

"One of these days I intend to search this place to see if I can find where it all is," he said. "I have a feeling it will be a veritable treasure trove dating back to the time of the founders, and will probably be worth a fortune."

"But, how did you get to talk to a house elf?" she asked. "I was under the impression the house elves of Hogwarts are seen but not heard. The Professor only allowed you one to get the classroom sorted, and that was ages ago."

"Huh!" replied Harry. "No one told me that. I just called for one and one came. He told me that the house elves normally don't come when called by a student but he - somehow - knew why I was calling and came. They're allowed to do that."

"Hello?" called a voice from the door.

Turning to look, both Harry and Daphne saw a First Year Gryffindor standing in the doorway looking around.

"Come in!" said Daphne. "You're the first to arrive."

Harry gestured to a ledger he had on the nearest desk with a quill and bottle of ink ready and said, "Please write your name in the ledger, and the House you belong to, and take a seat where you like."

Over the next half hour over two dozen students ranging from new First Years up to even Fourth Years came in. Over forty percent were Ravenclaws; about a quarter each were Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs, and there were a couple of Slytherins. Just about all of them ooh'ed and ahh'ed at the decor. They were also joined by the full contingent of 'The Seven', as they were coming to be known.

At 4.30pm on the dot, Harry and Daphne moved to the head of the meeting room and waited a few moments to allow the noise to die down.

"Welcome, all of you," said Harry. "For those who do not know, my name is Harry Potter; and this most charming lovely lady with me is Daphne Greengrass. We're the two who asked for permission to form this club."

Harry gestured to Daphne to take it from there while he picked up a small pile of parchment and started walking around the U-shape handing out a sheet to each.

"Harry and I were disappointed to learn that many of you, if not all of you, are unaware of the etiquette and traditions of the wizarding world. What they are, why they are, when and how they apply. We also know it's not your fault. The purpose of this club is to work with you to rectify that.

"Children who have grown up in the Wizarding world are quite aware of most of what we're going to help you with. As they've grown up with this, it's a fundamental part of their lives. They live it. However, as muggleborns you weren't even aware of the wizarding world until you received your Hogwarts letters. A such, those of us with a lick of sense understand you aren't aware of our etiquette and traditions."

Returning to the front, Harry said, "However, it is the considered opinion of the populace of the wizarding world that it is _your_ responsibility to make yourselves aware of the etiquette and traditions. So, when you make a mistake relating to one, they hold you responsible for it. They do not consider it their responsibility to teach you what you _need_ to know. Though you may not agree with that viewpoint, they're right.

"Like me, as I was muggle-raised, you're pretty much a migrant to this world. To put that into perspective; before you came here, you were living as a muggle Brit. If someone emigrated into Britain, you would have been of the mind that it was the migrant's responsibility to learn how to live in Britain. They made the choice to come here, so it's their responsibility to fit in. The same applies to the wizarding world and you. Harsh, I know; but, no less true."

Daphne asked, "As an explanation of why it's so important, who here remembers what happened at breakfast last Saturday between Harry and Professor Snape?"

Almost all sitting before them raised their hands.

"Good. Now, who here knows what it _meant_?"

All but three hands went down.

Nodding, Daphne asked one of those who had their hand raised on the second question, "How did you come to understand what it meant?"

"I - err - went to the school library and found a book about it," said the Second Year Ravenclaw.

"A wise move," said Daphne. "Did either of you other two know what it meant _as_ it happened? Or, did you also have to wait until later to find out?"

"Later," both replied.

Again nodding, she said, "Then none of you knew at the time that Professor Snape had committed a deliberate major breach of etiquette. And that, as a result of that breach, he could have been lawfully _killed_ for it, do you?"

That elicited a few gasps around the room, together with a few talking to others sitting nearby.

With a smirk, Harry asked loud enough, "It all just became a much more serious issue for all of you, hasn't it?"

Not expecting a response he said, "What I handed to each of you is a general overview of what we'd like to discuss with you, show you, and where necessary demonstrate for you.

"We've included general subject ideas we can go over. However, if there's a specific subject matter you'd like to know about, or know _more_ about, then we can discuss it. But you also need to consider that Daphne and I would like to run this club each year. And that each year will see the influx of another batch of First Years who would benefit from this club.

"That means we're starting from scratch each September to allow the new cohort of First Years to participate. However, if we haven't imparted upon you want we want to by June next year, then we may well continue for you on the Sundays opposite those where we'll be starting from scratch."

"Any questions, so far?" asked Daphne.

A Gryffindor First Year, Fay Dunbar, asked, "Harry, is it true you head-butted a Killing Curse?"

Giving a small snort and shaking his head, he replied, "Two things. First, no one really knows what happened when Voldemort cast the Killing Curse at me, because everyone _but_ me is dead who would know. Anything you have read that states otherwise is only a guess at best and a blatant lie at worst.

"Secondly, I'm sorry to say, you have just committed a serious breach of etiquette. I'm not having a go at you for it because you didn't know and that's why you should be here. But, do you know what it was?"

"Errr - no; sorry," she meekly replied.

"Does anyone else?" asked Harry looking around. No one knew or guessed.

"Not surprising, really," said Harry. "The breach occurred when you used my first name when you were not given leave to do so. That is, I did not say you could call me by my first name before you used it.

"Properly, you should have asked, 'Potter - or, Mister Potter - is it true you head-butted a Killing Curse?'. There are some in the wizarding world who take great offence when you use their first name when they haven't said you can do so. It's referred to as being overly familiar and is considered disrespectful.

"Because we don't want any of you to feel uncomfortable in here, and because we want each of us to consider the others friends; please, call me Harry, all of you."

"And I give you leave to call me Daphne," said Daphne. "But, only in this room. I still expect to be called Miss Greengrass outside that door; alright?"

After receiving a number of verbal nods Daphne asked, "Please, are they any more questions; specifically, about what we hope to accomplish in here?"

Another Gryffindor, Seamus Finnegan, asked, "Yeah, why do we need to ride the Hogwarts Express to come to Hogwarts? It takes me and me Dad _ages_ to travel all the way down to London just for me to have to ride all the way back to south western Scotland on a train."

"A question, I'm guessing, almost all muggleborns who don't live near London wonder about," said Daphne. "The answer lies in; it's tradition. It's one of those traditions that has arisen for only the last couple hundred years. The Hogwarts Express ride is supposed to be a time when the differences between the Houses comes down. And students are free to interact without interference from the Professors.

"Instead, it is considered by many, including some raised in the wizarding world, as a complete waste of time; irrespective of the fact it's a tradition. But, because it _has_ become tradition, it won't be going away any time soon. And there are those who would feel offended if you recommend it be - done away with."

"Next?" asked Harry

When none were forthcoming, Harry said, "We intend to hold these meetings each Sunday a fortnight apart. They will be held here at the same time, each time. The only time the meetings will not be held will be when we are all on break, whether it be Christmas break, Easter break or summer break, or end-of-year exams are taking place.

"There is no mandatory requirement to attend. However, if you miss a session, and it covers something you want to know about, we will not be discussing it during the next meeting for you. It'll be your responsibility to find out what you missed from your fellow club members.

"We also don't intend to assign mandatory homework. If you want extra material to research or study, it'll be off your own backs; but we can help you there.

"This abandoned classroom will also remain the meeting room for the club. You may even appreciate the decor indicates this. However, it is not a House-less common room. The door will be locked and warded from intrusion when meetings are not being held. Everyone clear on this, so far?"

Again with the verbal nods.

"Anyone want to take a punt and ask a question before we wrap it up for the day?" he asked.

"Yeah, umm - Potter," one of the Second Year Gryffindors asked, "What is it with all the Crests around the room?" He was waving his hand in a sweeping gesture to the crests on the walls.

Harry looked at Daphne and gave a slight nod. She understood the message.

"While we plan on going through the nobility of the wizarding world in one of these sessions coming up, I find no harm in giving you an overview of it now.

"You, of course, know of the four Houses of Hogwarts. These crests you see high up on the walls around us represent the Houses of wizarding Britain. The ones with a wide red band through them identify them as Houses that are lost to us. That is, no one knows if there is a current Heir for any of them.

"The others identify those which are still active." Indicating one on the wall above the blackboard, she said, "There's mine; Greengrass. A couple across, there's Harry's; Potter. The reason why the Houses are so important to wizarding Britain will be discussed in a couple of weeks. And, yes, it's important to know.

"The Houses are broken down into Noble and Most Ancient, Noble and Ancient, Ancient, Elder, Minor, and Magical. Within the Noble Houses there are the Lords and Ladies, and the Heirs. Within all Houses are the Head of House and the Heirs. The chart on the back wall identifies the Head of each House and the Heir, whether they be the Heir Apparent or the Heir Presumptive.

"Harry is currently Head of House Potter but, because he is not yet of age, is not yet formally recognised as Lord of the House, Lord Potter. I'm Heiress Presumptive of House Greengrass, which means I currently stand to become Lady Greengrass on the passing of my father _and_ I come of age. However, as Harry and I are also betrothed I also stand to become Lady Potter when we marry soon after we _both_ reach our majority.

"What those titles mean, and why they're so important to Wizarding Britain, will be discussed in depth in a couple of weeks. It's going to take a while."

"And, I don't mean to be rude, but what about how you're betrothed at such a young age?" asked another.

"Fair question," replied Harry. "What many of you may be unaware of is that betrothal contracts amongst the nobility of the muggle world used to be quite common until a couple centuries ago. They have since fallen out of favour.

"In the magical world, however, betrothal contracts, while not as common as they once were, can still be found. My and Daphne's fathers wrote up a betrothal contract for the two of us when we were both infants. I don't understand what was going through my father's head at the time, but I know the betrothal was agreed to, in part, to bring our two Houses into a closer formal and public relationship. An alliance."

"But, what if you're not suited to each other?" asked the same person. "What if you even hate each other?"

"Most betrothal contracts have built in escape clauses. One or the other party of the contract can back out; but, it requires the payment of a substantial penalty to do so.

"However, the betrothal contract signed for Daphne and I has no such clause. And that's where magic comes in. From our experiences of this, it _appears_ that magic itself is working with us to ensure we are compatible and will be happy with each other. As things are, both of us are happy with this arrangement. We find ourselves growing closer together the more time we spend with each other."

"So, when Professor Snape tried to separate you last weekend, it could be seen as he was trying to keep you apart, stopping the magic from taking hold?" said one of the lone Slytherins.

"Precisely," replied Harry firmly. "As such he was interfering with the betrothal contract. And that meant he was interfering with the business of both our Houses. So, as you can see, it was a _very_ big and serious thing that happened."

"Wow," he heard one of the young girls say.

"Alright, folks," said Harry. "I know this wasn't a very long session. However, it was to give you an understanding of what we're going to be covering here over the school year, to see if you'd be interested in becoming a member, and give you the opportunity to now report back to those of your friends who asked you to check it out for you.

"The next meeting will be two weeks from today and we're _really_ going to be getting stuck into things from then on. We look forward to seeing you then.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After closing the meeting down Harry led the Seven down to the Great Hall. It was not yet time for dinner, but Harry wanted to see if there was any gossip about the etiquette club among the students.

Sitting at the Ravenclaw table they received a few other students approaching to ask if they could join the club. Each was told to present themselves at the next meeting a fortnight later.

After the meal he led Daphne outside and sat on one of the stones of a large standing circle of them on the path to Hagrid's hut. She joined him sitting on the stone and leaned against him.

"Daddy is coming for us at lunch time tomorrow," she softly said.

Harry grunted in agreement and said, "I still think our leaving the school for half a day tomorrow was a poor excuse for Dumbledore to not grant us permission to visit with Sirius at Greengrass Estate over the weekend."

With a shrug, she said, "He had the right to do it as we didn't give him a suitable reason to allow us to leave. Plus, him coming back with how you missed pretty much all of the first week, then we were gone for a significant part of last Sunday for the trials, and how other students didn't have those level of privileges, was a fair point or two."

"No, he's just shitty at me for that meeting in his office the other day," said Harry. "I half-expected him to reverse his decision to allow us to run the etiquette club, as well. Just out of spite, you know?"

"You think he could be that vindictive?" she asked.

"Yeah, I do," he replied.

"Well, it's running now," she said. "I'd be demanding answers and his reasoning if he blocked it now. Besides, we'll also be leaving the castle for the afternoon tomorrow for the trial. And that's something he can't refuse us."

"Yeah, and it gets me out of History of Magic," chuckled Harry. "Double win!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After Charms the next morning Harry met Daphne in the Entrance Hall. She was already waiting for him with Cygnus.

"Ready to go?" asked Cygnus.

"Yep," replied Harry.

Side-by-side they walked out the front doors of the castle and up the drive towards Hogsmeade.

After a couple minutes of silence in their walk, Harry looked at Cygnus and asked, "Any hints on what we can expect?"

"Dumbledore has a canny political mind," replied Cygnus. "He has perfected the art of answering questions with only as much information as he's willing to give. Amelia is aware of this and has been working on the exact wording of the questions she wants to ask him once she has him on the stand.

"But, I'm not sure we're going to hear everything we need to hear. Dumbledore's been keeping everything close to his own chest for years. A little court case like this isn't going to pry those secrets out of him any time soon."

Harry thought for a few moments before he said, "Then the counter to his taciturnity is to carefully listen to his answers to any question asked. And to consider basing your next question on his previous response as a form of confirmation. Also, don't assume that what he states is in direct response to the question asked; or, even if it is, is the entire answer."

Cygnus cast a long look at Harry before he said, "Points well made, Harry. We'll keep them in mind."

In an almost abrupt change of subject, Harry asked, "How's Sirius getting on? He's aware we were forbidden to leave Hogwarts over the weekend?"

"He's doing quite well; and, yes," replied Cygnus. "He wasn't happy to learn you were refused leave to visit, but he knows it wasn't your fault. He wanted to come along to pick you up today, but I convinced him not to. I did not want to risk a confrontation between him and members of Hogwarts's staff over such a petty issue.

"However, he'll be waiting for us at the Ministry. I suspect I'd have had to have the elves chain him to the floor of his room if I refused him to at least meet us there."

"It would have been unfair not to allow him to attend," said Harry. "He's been unlawfully incarcerated for ten years. To deny him his freedom, even for his own good, would have been cruel. Besides, I'm looking forward to seeing him again. He may not be my immediate family, but he's the closest thing I've got to my parents, at the moment."

After thinking about how that might have sounded, he said, "Sorry; that may have come off as being insulting or, at least, insensitive. I did not mean it to be."

"I understand, Harry," said Cygnus gently. "I take it you have memories of him, too?"

"Oh, yes," replied Harry with a wide smile. "He used to get Dad in trouble with Mum all the time. In Dad's letter where it states he had to sleep on the couch for a couple of weeks because of the betrothal contract was only one of _many_ times my dear godfather got either or both of them in trouble with Mum."

With a shrug, he said, "I remember she loved it, though. She'd yell at both of them like they were naughty school boys for a while before she'd pick me up, if I was in the room, and walked away from them. I don't think she had any idea I would remember exactly what she said to me all these years later, even if I didn't understand a word of it then. She would just talk to me because I happened to be there."

"What sort of things would she say to you, Harry?" asked Daphne. "I don't mean to be so personal, it's just..."

"I don't mind," replied Harry. "She would tell me of how she was happy that they could still have fun together with the war on. That the - shenanigans - they got up to both showed they still retained their fun-loving natures and acted as stress relievers.

"She was worried that the brutality of the war would cause them to change; to - become people other than what they were while still at school; that they would change so much they would lose their friendship; their love for one another."

Harry noticed that the initial pace Cygnus had set walking towards the gates of Hogwarts had considerably slowed. They were now barely trudging along.

Cygnus said, "A very smart woman, was your mother. And not just book smart, either. She could see how things were headed. What the likely consequences of an action would lead to. And acted accordingly."

They had just reached the gates, so Cygnus led Harry and Daphne through before leading them to the Three Broomsticks. From there it was a quick trip to the Ministry.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	18. Mindscape

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighteen - Mindscape**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry found Cygnus had led him and Daphne back to Courtroom Five again. They were sitting in almost the same seats. This time there were quite a few others sitting in the visitors' gallery with them. Plus, the same two journalists from the week before.

One of those particular muckrakers came over and sat behind Harry and Daphne before he leaned forward and quietly said, "Lord Potter, I wonder if I might be able to ask you a few questions before the trial starts."

Harry gave Daphne a glance who returned an almost miniscule shrug in return.

He turned to look at the journalist and said, "Normally, I would not care to comment. However, I read your articles last week in the Daily Prophet and found them to be factual and non-compromising. For that reason I'll do my best to answer what of your questions I care to with honesty.

"However, show me you are not to be trusted in future, and you'll never receive a true quote from me again. Deal?"

The journalist thought for a moment before replying, "I am not Rita Skeeter, My Lord. I will always write the facts. Therefore, it is no bother for me to agree. Deal!"

Giving a short nod, Harry said, "In that case, Sir; ask away."

The man grabbed a notebook and quill from one of the deep pockets of his robes. Allowing the notebook and quill to hover he said, "It's a dicta-quill, My Lord. And, for your information, if you see something like this and the quill has a lime green ostrich feather, it's a quik-quotes quill. They're nasty things and write whatever nonsense the owner of it wants it to write."

"Thank you for the heads up," replied Harry.

Setting the dicta-quill going the journalist said, "Thank you for speaking with me today, My Lord."

"You're welcome."

"Is it true you were unaware of the wizarding world until your eleventh birthday?"

"I received my Hogwarts letter a few days before my eleventh birthday. Until then, that was the only item of mail I'd ever received from the wizarding world. My Hogwarts letter confirmed my belief the wizarding world actually existed. It was the next day I found Diagon Alley."

"You've never received correspondence from the wizarding world until your Hogwarts letter?"

"Correct."

"My Lord, I would have believed there would have been a great many people in the wizarding world who would have sent you owls before then."

"That may be true. I have no way of knowing otherwise. However, I've never received them. And I have no explanation as to why."

"Very well. I have it on good authority Lord Sirius Black, recently exonerated of charges relating to the events at Potter's Cottage on the 31st of October 1981, and in the township of Coventry a few days later, is in fact your sworn godfather. Is this true?"

"Your good authority is both correct and has a big mouth. Yes, Lord Black is my sworn godfather."

"Ah. It appears the trial is about to start. May I speak with you on this at another time?"

"You may."

As Harry and the journalist were winding up their short talk, Harry noticed the members of the Wizengamot who were sitting in judgement had begun to enter the room. They went directly to their seats. Again, Madam Marchbanks took the centre President's seat while Amelia took the seat on the end.

Just as she was about to bang her gavel, Sirius walked quickly into the room and bounded up the stairs to sit next to Harry.

"What'd I miss?" he asked quietly.

"Nothing yet," replied Harry. "They only entered a few moments before you did. Cutting it a bit close there, weren't you, godfather?"

Sirius turned to look at him and gave a big grin. Harry was happy to see his teeth, which based on the last time he'd been able to see him were in a horrendous state, were now fully repaired and sparkling white.

Harry also noticed that, while his godfather still appeared to be quite gaunt, was moving much more fluidly and healthily. He was clearly bouncing back to full health. His hair was trimmed and his full straggly beard was trimmed back to a small goatee.

"You're looking much better, godfather," said Harry, eyeing the man critically. "Living with the Greengrasses is doing you a lot of good."

As Harry finished talking Madam Marchbanks banged her gavel three times and called the court to order.

"Bring in the accused," she called.

A moment later, Dumbledore was escorted into the room between two aurors. He was not, however, shackled in any way as he was attending willingly.

He approached the chair but, just before sitting down, took out his wand and reconfigured it into a plush throne-like chair. Then he calmly sat down giving the appearance he was there looking out upon his subjects, rather than being sat in judgement.

Madam Marchbanks then turned to Amelia and said, "Madam Bones; the charges, if you will."

What followed was a long afternoon of Dumbledore answering questions with misdirections, half-truths and just about every other form of avoidance Harry could remember reading about. It was quite clear how the man had manage to become the Headmaster of Hogwarts, the Chief Warlock and Supreme Mugwump all at the same time.

Harry also noticed that Amelia had made good use of the timeline he drew up as Dumbledore tried to claim that Harry's proper guardians, with the exception of the Greengrasses, were either imprisoned or were lying in Saint Mungo's.

When asked why he didn't take Harry to the Greengrasses he said he believed the risk was too high the Greengrasses were servants of Voldemort.

That was when the memory of what Dumbledore and McGonagall said to each other while Harry was in Dumbledore's arms as he was being placed on the doorstep of Privett Drive was played.

Dumbledore had to dance a number of back-pedalling steps and claimed his memory was not so clear of the event. When asked about why Harry had not received any mail from the wizarding world until his Hogwarts letter he claimed, for Harry's safety, to have put up mail owl notice-me-not wards. His excuse was because the mail could have included portkeys or the like to spirit Harry away from the safety of his aunt and uncle.

That gave Harry an idea for when he next spoke with the journalist.

There were many times during the questioning phase of the trial that Dumbledore was caught out not answering a question fully, or being otherwise disingenuous. It did him harm.

The questioning had gone on for so long that a break was called partway through for people to get something to drink or visit the toilet. Even Dumbledore's voice was becoming a bit hoarse.

In the end Dumbledore was found guilty of most of the charges. He managed to skive off being found guilty of the most serious, though; including the conspiracy and neglect charges.

However, he was found guilty of abuse of authority of his position as Chief Warlock in the remainder. When sentence was passed, Dumbledore was banned from returning to sit upon the Wizengamot in any capacity, and fined over ten thousand galleons. He was not, however, given any prison time. As an added bonus he was stripped of his position representing magical Britain on the ICW, which also meant he could no longer be Supreme Mugwump.

Furthermore, the temporary suspension of Dumbledore's claim over Harry as his magical guardian was made permanent. It was agreed Harry would be protected under the joint custody of Madam Longbottom, Madam Bones, Lord Black and Lord Greengrass. He would also not be permitted to claim _loco parentis_ or magical guardianship upon any other minor, including students at the school.

"Damn!" muttered Harry. "That means we still have to put up with him at Hogwarts."

Harry, Amelia and Cygnus all tried to see if one of the charges against Dumbledore could be levelled against the man in his role as Headmaster. However, everything illegal the man had done he had done in his role as Chief Warlock.

Harry raised how Dumbledore used the Hogwarts infirmary and school nurse to care for Harry for the near twenty four hours between the time he was removed from Godric's Hollow until he was dumped at the Dursleys. However, he could claim to have done it as Chief Warlock, which is precisely what he did during the trial.

Dumbledore was no fool. He knew if he said he'd done it as Headmaster, then his position as Headmaster would also have been put at risk.

After the sentence was passed Dumbledore turned to Harry and Daphne and said, "Harry? Miss Greengrass? I'll escort you back to school."

"Insulting me again, Headmaster, by using my first name?" mocked Harry. "And, sorry; but, we have further business to attend ere we return to Hogwarts."

With one of his unpatented grandfatherly put-upon sighs, Dumbledore said, "Very well. I expect to see you back before not too much longer." And walked from the room.

As Dumbledore was leaving the journalist who spoke to Harry earlier quickly returned and set up his dicta-quill.

While the man was setting things up quickly with a practiced hand, Harry asked him, "As I'm doing you a favour by participating in this interview, I wonder if I can ask one of you?"

"And what would that be, My Lord," the journalist replied.

"I need you to include, as part of your article, that I had nothing to do with, nor had any idea of, the Notice-Me-Not wards for mail owls on where I was living. And that, even if I didn't receive any mail from the wizarding world, I'd still like to apologise to those within the wizarding world who sent me mail, for not thanking them for their effort.

With an appraising look, the journalist said, "I can do that. If you promise me, where possible, you'll give me exclusives."

Harry snorted in response and said, "Keep writing the truth and you've probably got yourself a deal."

Harry then answered a few more questions from the journalist, even though Sirius was giving him funny looks. However, once the journalist recognised the man sitting next to Harry was the so-called infamous Lord Sirius Black, Sirius was also asked questions, which for the most part he was happy to answer.

The interview was interrupted with the return of Cygnus. "Ready to go?"

Harry and Daphne both nodded.

Harry turned to the journalist and said, "Sorry about this. But I invite you to owl me at Hogwarts if there's something you want to ask me. As with this interview, if I'm willing to answer your questions I'll provide you with the answers. If not, I'll tell you so."

"Thank you, My Lord," replied the journalist as he was packing away his dicta-quill.

As the four of them made their way back outside Cygnus asked, "Is it wise to talk to journalists?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "By my being willing to talk to them I maintain some level of control over what they write about me. If I refuse to talk to them then they're free to write whatever they want. It was the famous author, Mark Twain, who once said, 'Never pick a fight with people who buy ink by the barrel'. I think he was right. It's far better to work _with_ them."

"Control them from the inside, you mean? By way of exclusive interviews?" asked Cygnus with a grin.

"Yeah, pretty much," replied Harry with a shrug.

Cygnus turned to Sirius and said, "I _told_ you he was a Slytherin hiding in Ravenclaw."

The pained look on Sirius's face made Harry laugh.

"Alright," said Sirius. "Clearly, this is Give-My-Godfather-Indigestion Day. However, we still need to meet Amelia. She has news for Harry."

Harry, wondering what was going on, followed the two Lords down the passageway and into the offices of the DMLE. Inside, both Lords approached the young lady sitting at what was clearly a secretary's desk.

"Good afternoon, Nanine," said Sirius in a pleasant silky-smooth drawl. "Is Madam Bones back from trial yet?"

"Oh, yes, Lord Black," the girl near-tittered. "Let me just check to ensure she's ready for you." And she rose and approached a door just off to the side behind her desk. She gave it two quick raps of her knuckles, listened closely, and then opened the door to duck inside.

Harry looked at Sirius as soon as the girl disappeared behind the door. "Really, Godfather? Already?"

Sirius just gave a little smirk and a slight shrug before he said, "I can't have my godson doing better than me with the ladies. It just wouldn't be proper."

A few moments later, she was back and holding the door open.

"Director Bones will see you now," she said with a coy look towards Sirius.

Again, the two Lords led the four through. They walked into Amelia's inner office.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After finishing their short meeting with Amelia she allowed them to use her personal office fireplace to floo directly to Greengrass Estate.

Harry was one of the first, after Daphne, to collapse into one of the available sofas. "So, there _is_ a bloody prophecy with my name on it," he grouched. "But, who the hell is TMR?"

"Alright," said Sirius. "APWBD is clearly Dumbledore; he's the one who heard the prophecy. SPT is supposed to be Sibyl Patricia Trelawney; she's the Professor of Divination at Hogwarts. HJP is Harry James Potter; so TMR has to be the other person. I'll see what I can track down and even give my Aunt Cassiopeia a call. She's in her late seventies but still has her 'little black book'. It may provide us with some information."

"Is there any way we can acquire a list of past students of Hogwarts?" asked Harry. "I mean, it shouldn't be too hard to then go through the names to see if there's someone, or multiple someones, who have those initials."

"Good idea," said Cygnus. "I'll speak to old Professor Tofty at the Ministry. He has the records of all past and current Hogwarts students in his files. It'll be a nightmare to go through all those files, though."

"Well, I'd guess that the records would be in alphabetical order," said Harry. "Start with only going through those whose surnames begin or began with the letter 'R' first."

With a slight wince, Cygnus said, "Of course." In a tone that said he knew he should have considered that.

The initials seemed familiar to Harry. He was going through the names of all the students he knew, all the wizards and witches he had met and who had told him their names, every Daily Prophet he had read. However, it didn't come to him.

'If anyone can figure out who those initials belonged to without months slogging through records they should get a medal,' thought Harry. 'Something to rewar...'

Harry suddenly shot forward in his seat until he was sitting on the edge of it. The others saw a look of shock on his face.

"Harry?" asked Sirius. "What is it?"

"TMR," replied Harry softly. "Tom Marvolo Riddle. Slytherin House. Head Boy in 1945. Earned a special award from Hogwarts for services to the school in 1943. Headmaster Dippet awarded it to him. He earned it for identifying Hagrid as the one who opened the Chamber of Secrets back then.

"A young Fourth Year Ravenclaw student by the name of Myrtle Malone was killed in the second floor girl's toilets."

"Wha?" said Sirius, obviously confused. "How do you know that?"

"I went for a wander through the castle a few days ago," explained Harry. "It was a free period and I both wanted to start to make a move on mapping the castle and burn off some energy. I walked into what I found to be the Hogwarts Trophy Room on the third floor.

"In the trophy room I found a cutting from the Daily Prophet that had an article on the story. It was in a picture frame directly above a small glass case that had the award. On another wall was a large wooden board that contained the list of names of the Head Boy and Head Girl for each year dating back to the beginning of the century. Riddle's name was there as Head Boy for 1945."

"How in _Merlin's name_ did you remember that?" asked Sirius.

"Oh," said Harry, snapping back to the present. "I have an eidetic memory. I remember _everything_. I also have a full mindscape and am very skilled at Occlumency. The latter helps me keep the eidetic memory organised."

"You," stuttered Sirius. "You have a full mindscape at _eleven_?"

"Actually, I've had a full mindscape since I was about eight," replied Harry. "The eidetic memory allowed me to develop the mindscape, and the mindscape allows me to control the eidetic memory. Which then allowed me to improve the mindscape. Which, in turn, allows me to improve the storage of memories. It's kind of a self-perpetuating 'neuro-mutualism'. That is, each benefits the other and supports the other.

"The mind healer at Saint Mungo's said he's never seen the like on someone so young. He was the one who identified what's going on in my head as a fully formed and functional mindscape. And then helped me on my way to both rebuild it and make significant improvements on it in the case of occluding my mind from Legilimencers."

"Sirius," called Cygnus. When Sirius looked at him he said, "It was _Harry's_ memories that were played at your trial. Harry's memories from when he was _fifteen months old_."

Turning back to look at Harry with a look of awe on his face, Sirius asked, "You remember _everything_?"

"Yep," grinned Harry. "Do you want me to give Cygnus the memory for his pensieve I have of you with my infant pacifier stuck in your mouth and you unable to remove it?"

Sirius looked at Harry with a look not unlike horror.

"Well, I, of course, didn't understand what was happening at the time," shrugged Harry. "I now know it was a burst of accidental magic."

Sirius snorted and said, "Harry was fussing. Lily was in the kitchen preparing his dinner while I was trying to keep him occupied. I kept putting his dummy in his mouth and little Lord Fauntleroy here kept taking it out and trying to give it to me.

"I didn't mind as it kept him occupied. However, Harry seemed to be getting annoyed that I wasn't sticking it in my mouth.

"Next thing I know he's holding the dummy out to me like he's trying to shove it at me, but I kept just out of his reach. He makes this grunt sound with a frown on his face and the bloody dummy leaps out of his fingers and plants itself in my gob.

Chuckling, Harry said, "The look on Sirius's face when it happened, though. Priceless."

"I then reached to pull it back out of my mouth and found I couldn't budge it," said Sirius now with a slight grin on his own face with unfocussed eyes, remembering. "The surround of the dummy was fused to my lips. I kept trying to pull it out, though. I even took out my wand and tried a Finite Charm, but it didn't work.

"I tried to call for Lily but the only sounds I could make were quite muffled. Harry was giggling away almost hysterically and that brought Lily into the room.

"She took a few seconds to work out what had happened and then she started laughing. I, on the other hand, was getting both annoyed and frantic trying to remove the - offending object."

Laughing, Harry said, "So, here was Sirius, gesticulating wildly. A well-dressed pureblood trying to stand tall and proud like a true pureblood heir, with a baby's light blue pacifier stuck firmly in his gob with a ribbon hanging from it. It was bloody hilarious!

"Even Mum thought so. She tried a couple of times to cancel the magic that caused the dummy to be stuck there, but couldn't undo whatever it was that I'd done. Trouble is, she was also laughing too hard to properly concentrate.

"After about three or four minutes she had just about lost it completely and was laughing so hard she had tears running down her cheeks, and had developed a dose of hiccups. Sirius got really annoyed and stormed out of the room."

Daphne was trying very hard not to laugh but was snorting in amusement while blushing. Cygnus, however, was roaring with laughter.

"I apparated to Saint Mungo's," said Sirius with a fond smile. "It was the most _embarrassing_ day of my life. I _did_ hook up with a pretty nurse, as a result, though."

"It's also one of my most treasured memories," said Harry. "After Sirius left, Dad came home and had to give Mum a Calming Draught to get any worthwhile information out of her. As soon as he could get her to tell him what happened he said he had to go and find Sirius to make sure he was alright. He also said he wanted to take 'photographic evidence of the foul crime'. Mum accused him of just wanting blackmail material.

"It wasn't long after that, I think, they bound my magic down. But I must've been asleep when they did it, because I don't remember it happening."

"It was only a few days later," sighed Sirius. "The fact it took a team of specialists to unravel the sticking charm you used to stick the pacifier in my mouth was worrying to your parents. Though they didn't like it, they knew your magical power had to be bound down a fair bit in case you caused some accidental magic that harmed someone and no one could undo it.

"That was also about a week before Potter's Cottage was attacked. Only James, Lily and myself knew about your magic being bound."

"Well, that's _one_ probable explanation for why my magic was never unbound," replied Harry with a sigh.

"Yes, but it still should have been detected when you went in for your inoculations at Saint Mungo," said Cygnus.

"Errr..." said Harry a bit sheepishly.

"You - were never taken in for your inoculations, were you?" asked Cygnus.

"No," replied Harry. "However, I received them while I was in there after what happened at the Sorting Feast.

"Well, at least they're done," said Cygnus. "Yet another thing that old fool should have seen to as your magical guardian, and didn't."

"Anyway," said Harry flipping his hand in a throwaway gesture. "This has gotten us completely off-topic; the prophecy. What do I need to do to find out what the prophecy states?"

"You'll need to visit the Prophecy Hall in the Department of Mysteries," replied Cygnus. "There's only a few people who can touch the orb that contains a memory recording of the prophecy."

"And, who are they?" asked Harry.

"The one who gave the prophecy, the one who heard it and from whom the memory was likely taken, and those the prophecy is about. That means Sybil Trelawney, Albus Dumbledore, you and whoever TMR is," replied Sirius. "Once the prophecy orb is on the shelf not even the Unspeakables can access it - reportedly."

"But that's not to say they're not already aware of what the prophecy is or states, before the memory was placed in the orb," mused Harry. "Therefore, they'd not need to access the orb."

Sitting forward again, he said, "Still; I guess we should make arrangements for me to hear the damnable thing."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning The Seven were sitting together at breakfast when Hedwig flew in bearing Harry's copy of that morning's Daily Prophet. Unshrinking and unfolding it he saw the lead story was, of course, the sacking of Dumbledore as Chief Warlock, Britain's representative on the ICW and as Supreme Mugwump.

The story included the highlights of the trial and left little out that was of any substance. But it was plain Dumbledore's support was waning fast.

The story immediately below was the interview Harry gave the reporter, a man he now knew was named Montague 'Monty' Wordsworth. Harry wondered if he was in any way related to the famous English poet, William Wordsworth. It didn't much matter to him; the man was true to his word and wrote well.

Harry decided he would keep his promise and do his best to work with the endeavouring Mister Wordsworth in future. He felt it didn't hurt to have a journalist he could, somewhat, count upon to write the truth.

They had an uneventful day and, after classes, Harry knew he needed to get his homework out of the way. As he missed History of Magic the previous day Neville told him what the homework for it was, while Susan told Daphne what she'd missed in their combined class. The Seven were in the library working quietly on their homework, offering suggestions to the odd request for assistance amongst them.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

That night, Harry walked from the Ravenclaw tower up to the astronomy tower for their class. There, he met Daphne and Tracey. They were grateful that it was a clear night, but it was also apparent the long cold of winter was slowly creeping in. Because they were so tired, the cold also seemed to seep into their very bones.

It was a very tired cohort of First Year Ravenclaws and Slytherins that crawled into bed during the early hours of the morning.

As with the previous week, Harry didn't want to leave his lady alone at breakfast. After a hot shower with a period where he made the water bitterly cold to wake himself up, he trudged down to breakfast. He was a bit later than normal but made it, nonetheless. The others of The Seven were sitting at the Hufflepuff table.

Making his way over he plopped down onto a seat next to Daphne and almost immediately laid his head on her shoulder.

"A bit forward there, aren't we, Potter?" she asked.

"Quiet, pillow of mine, I'm trying to sleep," he mumbled in reply.

With a snort of amusement, Daphne hunched her shoulder, hard, causing Harry to snap back up straight. "I'm awake!" he blurted, blinking owlishly.

The others, except Tracey, chuckled. Tracey yawned.

As both Ravenclaw and Slytherin were free until the afternoon class of Defence Against the Dark Arts. Harry begged off on doing anything else but going back to bed to sleep another few hours. He thought he might receive an earful from Daphne about it, but she'd also made that decision.

When the mail arrived, Harry turned to look at the head table. He noticed almost all the professors received mail except for the Headmaster. He was sure the old man would receive quite a bit of mail about the article in the Daily Prophet, but he received none.

Thinking about it, Harry figured out the old man must have put an owl mail redirection system in place. His mail was probably all sitting on his desk.

They all met up again at lunch. The three Ravenclaws and Slytherins much more rested.

"Enjoy your nap?" asked Susan sweetly.

"Much, thank you," replied Harry, ignoring the mock-sarcasm. "I now understand why my dorm mates all choose to stay in bed and sleep instead of coming down to breakfast. I thought last week was bad, but this week was worse."

"Does anyone know if Dumbledore has found a replacement DADA Professor yet?" asked Tracey. "Or, is he still teaching the class?"

"He's still teaching the class," replied Neville. "He's also very, very good."

Harry hmmphed and said, "He'd have to be. After all, he took down Grindelwald."

Harry found DADA class under the instruction of Dumbledore was actually pretty good. He had the same class with the man the week before but, now that he had a better understanding of the quality of teaching at the school, he had to acknowledge Dumbledore was a master teacher.

Dumbledore released the class early so, with a kiss on the cheek for his betrothed and letting her know he'd meet up with her in the library, Harry hurried back to the Ravenclaw common room.

As he was walking through to the door to his dorm, he noticed a comic book sitting on one of the small tables. After picking up his astronomy text plus star charts, he walked back into the common room.

Picking up the comic book and flipping through it he noticed an advertisement on the inside back cover for a set of costumes. Looking at the cut out advertisement he looked around the room and found a Seventh Year studying in one of the study carousels that bordered the huge room.

He took the comic over to the older boy and waited until his presence was acknowledged.

"Yes?" asked the older boy.

Harry flipped open the comic to the last page and, indicating it to the older boy, asked, "Would you mind doing me a big favour and creating a permanent copy of this advertisement, please?"

The boy looked at the ad and asked suspiciously, "What are you up to?"

"A harmless prank," replied Harry in as straightforward a manner as he could.

"On a Ravenclaw?" asked the boy.

"Definitely not!" huffed Harry.

The boy stared at him for a few moments more before Harry could see he'd do it.

With a small shrug of his shoulders the boy said, "Why not."

He grabbed the comic book off Harry and a small piece of parchment and laid the two side by side. The boy had his wand in his hand and waved it over the two while muttering a short incantation. He did not notice Harry memorising both the incantation and the wand movements.

The small piece of parchment turned into a perfect replica of the entire inside of the back cover.

With a grin, Harry said, "Thank you, a lot!"

He picked up both, returned the comic book to the small coffee table, and sat down at one of the vacant carousels. Pulling out a muggle pen he'd found discarded somewhere, he filled in the appropriate places on the order form checking the boxes for the costume he wanted. He also checked the box that asked if he wanted a copy of their catalogue of other costumes.

While Harry had been living at The Leaky Cauldron he learned that the post office at Diagon Alley provided a special service. They acted as a remailing centre for mail heading out of the wizarding world into the muggle world the muggle way; and vice versa.

After creating an envelope he folded the order form and dropped it into the envelope along with enough galleons. He then addressed the envelope to be remailed the muggle way via the owl post office in Diagon Alley, along with the required fee to use the service.

Just as he was finishing and was getting ready to head for the owlery, Hedwig flew in.

"Hello, girl," said Harry.

Hedwig hooted happily at him and raised her leg.

Harry, after shrinking the small envelope due to it's weight, tied it to the owl's leg. Hedwig gave the back of his hand a bit of a loving scratch with her beak before taking to the air and flying back out again.

'_Well,_' thought Harry. '_That's a prank on its way to being set up._'

After Hedwig flew off, Harry quickly grabbed his book bag and hurried down to the library.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	19. Uncle Algie

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Nineteen – Uncle Algie**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next afternoon Harry was wandering down one of the more remote passages deep within the castle when he was suddenly grabbed and dragged into an alcove.

As he was released he drew his wand and spun about. Standing before him were a pair of identical twins wearing Gryffindor robes. Weasleys.

"Hello, ickle Harrikins," said one.

"What brings you wandering all on your lonesome all the way down here?" the other asked.

"I'm just trying to figure out my way around this mausoleum," replied Harry warily. "I'm just getting a feel for all the corridors and hallways into a bit of a map inside my head."

"Well," said one. "Unless you're also aware that the castle has this tendency to - rearrange itself, as needed..."

"...then your mental map is not going to do you much good," continued the other.

"Sorry?" asked Harry. "You mean classrooms and hallways and the like can _move_?"

"Indeed, they can!" exclaimed one.

"You've noticed how the stairs in the grand staircase move, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Well, that can also happen with other parts of the castle."

The look on Harry's face made both twins grin.

"Look, you know it's a magic castle, right?"

Harry nodded.

"Then why is it so hard to understand and accept magic can do this?"

Harry realised his expression must have been one of disbelief because the two twins grabbed him and took him back out into the hallway.

"Alright, ickle Harrikins; follow us and we'll show you a hidden passage that may help you understand."

"Alright," nodded Harry.

The twins then led Harry down a passageway until they came to a section of blank wall. One of the twins reached out and gave a wall sconce a twist ninety degrees to the right and a section of wall slid open.

With a grin, one of the twins grabbed Harry by his robes over his shoulder and dragged him inside.

"Alright," said one of the twins. "_Lumos!_" And his wand tip lit up.

Harry knew the Light Charm, having been one of the first he'd learned in charms class, and lit his own wand tip.

"Alright, this is where we now walk for a little ways," said one of the twins.

"Watch your step and your head," said the other.

Harry then walked with them for what felt like only a few yards before he came upon a set of stairs. He climbed up only about a single floor when he reached near level ground again. A few turns and the twins stopped just ahead.

"And this is what we mean by a magic castle, Harrikins," said one of the twins.

The other simply pushed on a section of wall and it pivoted open.

Walking out, Harry found himself standing behind a large statue where it nearly filled an alcove off one of the main castle corridors.

One of the twins stuck his head out from behind the statue and looked back and forth. He then pulled his head back, looked at his twin and Harry, grinned and stepped out.

The other twin and Harry followed. Harry found himself standing in a well lit hallway.

The twins then led Harry down the hall and through a door at the end. When Harry walked through he was shocked to find they were standing near the very top of the very tall grand staircase.

"Whoa!" said Harry in a little shock. "That should not be possible."

"That's magic, Harrikins," said one of the twins.

"We've just left one of the dungeon level passages..."

"... and are now on the seventh floor," said the other.

"And it only felt as if we ascended a little over a single story between there and here!" said the first.

"That's magic!" they said together.

"How many of those - secret passages are there?" asked Harry.

"We know of six," said one.

"But one of them's blocked from a tunnel collapse," said the other.

"And three of those lead outside the grounds," said the first.

"But, we know of others that aren't so secret," said the second.

"They're just shortcuts," said the first.

"Walk down a short flight of stairs and you come out two floors up; that sort of thing," said the other.

"Dead useful for getting from the Great Hall to the Gryffindor common room..." said the first.

"...to the Ravenclaw common room, too, I dare say," said the other.

After they stopped speaking they looked Harry, expectantly. In as straight a face as he could Harry softly intoned, "Love, fifteen."

The twins gaped at Harry, then at each other, then back at Harry. Together, they said, "Huh?"

Harry sighed and just shook his head. "Sorry," he said. "Muggle joke."

"If you say so..." said one.

"... ickle Harrikins," said the other.

With a quick shake of his head, Harry said, "Change of subject. I've heard from my sources that you two are the so-called reigning pranksters of the school. Is this true?"

"Indeed, we are," said one.

"Fred and George Weasley, at your service," said the other before both dropped into a simultaneous courtly bow.

"Well, I have a prank I'm currently planning, and getting the props for, and I wanted to make sure we don't - clash."

"Oh?" asked one.

"Any way we can assist?" asked the other.

"I don't know," replied Harry, honestly. "What I've done is ordered a costume from a fancy dress shop. It's a character from a set of movies that came out about a decade ago. It's of a character that out-Snape's Snape."

"Oh, really?" asked the first.

"And how can we help?" asked the second.

"I want to know if either of you know what Charms Snape uses to make his cloak billow like that," said Harry.

"There's supposed to be a book out that has a whole list of easy charms to make things happen to your clothes and appearance," said the second.

"We were going to save up to buy it," said the first.

"It's not stock, but Flourish & Blotts are supposed to be able to get it for you," said the second.

"Do you, perchance, know the name of this book?" asked Harry.

"'_Simple Cantrips for Appearances Sake_'," said the two in unison.

"Alright," said Harry. "I'll order two copies. One for me and one for you two."

The twins looked at each other and grinned. "You'd do that..." said the first.

"For us?" asked the second.

"Think of it as - two things coming together as one," replied Harry. "First, it's a bribe so you won't target me or my group of friends with your pranks. Second, I may want to join you two rapscallions or ask you to join me, in _future_ pranks."

"Harry Potter..."

"... wants to join us..."

"in the noble art of pranking!" they said before saying in unison, "Deal!"

"Alright, then," said Harry with a bit of a nod to them both. "I've got some ordering of books to do"

He started to walk away, before turning back. He said, "If there are any other books you're interested in acquiring that may assist in the 'noble art of pranking', let me know." Then left.

Harry headed for the Ravenclaw tower while the twins started talking rapidly together. Clearly, they would soon be approaching him with a list of books they thought might prove useful.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry received both copies of the book _Simple Cantrips for Appearances Sake_, on Friday morning's mail drop. The others of The Seven wanted to know what it was and why he ordered two.

"One's for the Weasley twins," he replied. "They're the one's who recommended it to me. Plus, it's partly a bribe paid to them to save us from being directly pranked by them when they finally get going again."

Hermione already had one of the books open before her on the table, scanning through it. "I don't get it," she said. "They're just little things you can do as glamours and the like."

Harry nodded and said, "Yes. And, according to the twins, there's a cantrip in there that mimics the billowing cape trick Snape has going on."

"These are supposed to be useful for when you're getting your photograph taken," said Hermione. "There's ones here for straightening curly hair, curling straight hair, giving you that glint of light off your teeth, brightening your eyes, making your eyes sparkle, pressing your clothes free of wrinkles, giving your hair that tousled look - heaps."

"Thinking about getting your photograph taken, Potter?" asked Daphne with that little smirk of which Harry was so fond.

Looking through the other copy of the book, Harry replied, "Nope. I just want to be able to do that billowing cape thing Snape does. But the eye twinkle thing sounds suspiciously Dumbledorish, too. As for the hair things - Hermione? Interested?"

"Hmmm?" asked their bushy haired friend. "Oh, yes. But it's very short term, though. It looks like all of them are. After all, how long does it take to take a photograph?"

"There's a better option than short term cantrips, Hermione," said Tracey. "I have some shampoo and conditioner that settles down hair that's otherwise untameable."

"I..." stuttered Hermione. "Can you tell me where I can get some, _please_?"

It was clear to all, then, Hermione _really_ didn't like the way her hair was bushy.

"I'll loan you some," said Tracey, clearly feeling for her friend. "But, it's better to have some shampoo and conditioner made just for you. It works better that way."

"How - how do I get it made," asked Hermione.

Tracey felt for her friend and said, "I'll get the appropriate order forms. I'll also need a decent snip of your hair - probably from underneath the top layers - to send in with the order. The potioneers need the hair to make sure they brew a batch that's keyed to you."

"Thank you," said Hermione with a bit of watery eye action. "I searched high and low for a shampoo and conditioner near where I live that would tame this mess; but, nothing worked."

"That's because the way your hair reacts has more to do with your magic than much else," said Hannah. "That's why you need _magical_ shampoo and conditioner."

Harry perked up on hearing that and said, "Really? Mine, too?"

"Don't you _dare_, Potter," Daphne half-growled. "I happen to like the tousled look your hair always has."

Looking towards his betrothed, Harry said, "But, what about when I need to spiffy up? You know, formal occasions?"

"Then we shall see about getting you your own special shampoo for those occasions," replied Daphne using her fingers to run through his hair. "Or, we can perhaps use the cantrip you've found that straightens hair temporarily."

Harry couldn't respond as his betrothed's fingers, where they were moving through his hair and scraping across his scalp, were giving him tingles all over. He had goosebumps. It felt - good.

After Daphne stopped what she was doing to him, Harry picked up one of the books and walked over to the Gryffindor table. He took seat in a spare spot immediately opposite the twins and handed them the book.

"As promised," said Harry. "Your book. Use it well, and wisely."

Both twins eagerly reached out for the book. "Thank you, oh great and powerful one," said one.

"Truly, a gift of the ages," said the other.

"Yes, well; if there are any others you want, as I said, come and see me. I'm still awaiting a package to arrive by mail. When it comes I'll get a message through to you to assist me with some charms work," said Harry, rising and returning to the other table.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During transfiguration, as he'd already read the text for the whole year, Harry used the time to speed read his new book. By lunch time he was ready to try a couple out.

As soon as the class was let out they met with the others in the Entrance Hall. Harry grabbed them and pulled them all into the antechamber they congregated in before the Sorting.

"I'm going to try a couple of the cantrips out of the book I received this morning," he said.

With a frown, Hermione asked, "Is it safe, do you think?"

"Only one way to find out," declared Harry. And he flicked his wand out and tried the first one he'd thought of to test.

A flick of his wand a muttered incantation and his eyes developed a twinkle.

Susan and Hannah looked into his eyes with a bit of awe.

"Wow!" said Susan. "That looks - wow!"

Another flick of his wand and muttered incantation and Harry beamed a big smile at the five witches. One of his molars gave a bright glint, even in the dim light of the alcove.

"Honestly, Harry," huffed Hermione. "You look like a right ponce." While Daphne and Tracey laughed. Neville just grinned and shook his head.

With a grin, Harry said, "Well, the charm's supposed to last a couple hours, so I'm going to test it out by smiling at a couple of our female Year Mates and see what happens."

"You're incorrigible," muttered Hermione.

With a shrug, Harry asked, "Shall we?" Before indicating for the others to precede him back out.

As they were walking across the Entrance Hall, he cast the cantrip to make Hermione's hair fall flat and straight before casting the second one to make her hair develop loose curls. From behind he thought it looked fantastic. Hermione didn't notice the change.

As Hermione walked into the Great Hall with Susan and Hannah side-by-side and Harry and the others not too far behind, Harry heard a lot of the noises stop as people looked up.

He could see from the expressions on people's faces that many did not recognise Hermione with her 'new' hairdo.

Looking around, it seemed that The Seven would be sitting at Gryffindor table for lunch as the girls led them in that direction.

What pleased Harry was that the Gryffindors were no longer giving Daphne and Tracey the 'evil eye' for sitting at the table of the House of the lions. Now they just allowed the two 'snakes' room with barely an eye bat.

One of the other Gryffindor First Years, as soon as she spotted Hermione, said, "Wow, Hermione! Your hair looks great!"

Hermione frowned back not understanding. "Pardon?" she asked.

"Your hair, Hermione," said one of the others. "It looks fantastic."

Confused, Hermione's hand came up to caress her bushy locks only to find her hand, when she brought a mass of her curls around so she could see them, full of long silky locks of brown hair.

She stood there for a few moments looking at her hair in shock. "How...?" she asked no one in particular.

Susan and Hannah helped an almost unresponsive Hermione onto the bench between them.

"Harry did it," said Tracey. "He did it just before we walked into the Great Hall."

Daphne pulled out a small compact mirror and, after casting an Enlargement Charm upon it, held it so Hermione could see herself in the reflection.

"Its - beautiful," Hermione said in awe.

"I - didn't want to say anything before, Hermione," said Daphne. "But - how would you like to have your teeth fixed? Permanently."

Hermione looked up and sadly said, "My parents are dentists. They're a form of muggle teeth healers. They want to have me fitted for braces but, since I can't go and get them constantly adjusted, as they would need to be. I'm going to have to wait until I finish my Hogwarts education before I can get it done."

"Hermione, you live in the magical world," said Daphne. "There's no need for muggle healing here. If you want your teeth fixed it takes only a few moments to get it done. Madam Pomfrey can do it for you in only a few minutes."

"She can do that?" asked Hermione in surprise.

"Yes," replied Daphne. "I dare say she's itching to do it for you. She just can't offer it to you without you asking. It breaches her healer's oath, if she did."

"Can we go after lunch?" pleaded the girl.

"If you want," replied Daphne.

Lunch was a calm affair only interrupted by Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil offering their praises to Hermione for her hair.

Hermione almost roughly grabbed Harry's new book back off him and was flipping through the pages looking for the cantrips he used.

"Pages forty-six and forty-eight, Hermione," said Harry, a little bemused.

Without even looking up, Hermione flipped to the first of the two pages and was reading avidly. She soon had her wand out and was slowly going through the wand motions as she read the pages.

"Eat, Hermione," Harry had to order her. "Eat, or I'll tell Daphne not to take you to see Madam Pomfrey for your teeth."

Hermione looked at him in horror for a few moments before quickly making herself a decent-sized sandwich, grabbing a banana, and pouring herself a goblet of pumpkin juice. With one hand she proceeded to eat her lunch; while reading the book with the other.

Harry and the others of The Seven looked at each other quite bemused by Hermione's focus.

After lunch Harry escorted Tracey to the greenhouses for Herbology while Daphne headed to the infirmary with Hermione.

She arrived only ten minutes into the lesson handing Professor Sprout a note excusing her for her tardiness.

As the lesson had started, Harry was sitting with Tracey for the lesson while Daphne sat with Millicent Bulstrode across from them.

"How'd it go?" asked Harry, quietly.

Daphne grinned back and said, "You'll see for yourself after class."

When he saw them, Harry told her they looked fantastic.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning Harry met Daphne, her father and Neville in the Entrance Hall. Today, they were heading in secret to the Department of Mysteries. There, they'd be having a look at the prophecy that clearly involved Harry.

"Sorry I'm late," said Harry. "I wanted to get a copy of the article from the Daily Prophet that's framed and hanging in the Trophy Room."

Harry unrolled the configured parchment of the copy of the article - something he learned from the Seventh Year Ravenclaw who copied the last page of the muggle comic book for him - and handed it to Cygnus.

With one look at it, Cygnus hissed in surprise. "Yes, that's a young Voldemort, alright," he muttered. "Mind if I hold onto this, Harry?" he asked.

"Of course not, Cygnus," replied Harry. "I brought it for you so it could be confirmed TMR is Tom Marvolo Riddle. And you've now confirmed Tom Marvolo Riddle is Voldemort."

With a nod, Cygnus rerolled the parchment and pocketed it within his robes. "Well, we'd best be going, then."

Together, the four headed off towards the front gates.

"I didn't know you were coming with us, Neville," said Harry to the other boy.

"Gran received a message from my Great Uncle Algie," replied the boy with a shrug. "He said I need to be there when we - get where we're going."

"Alright, then," said Harry. "It'll be nice to have you along." And smiled.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Stepping into the atrium at the Ministry of Magic from one of the many fireplaces, Harry noticed there wasn't nearly as many people as the previous Monday. Clearly, Saturdays were not a mandatory work day at the Ministry.

Cygnus led their small party through the security checkpoint before striding over to the bank of elevators. There, they took a ride down to Level Nine.

Striding straight across the small foyer, Cygnus opened the door that was only labelled 'DoM' in old English script on a wooden plaque.

Inside, they were immediately met in a hallway by a person of modest height in a long grey cloak. Harry noticed he couldn't quite make out the person's face.

Cygnus after shaking the person's hand turned to the three kids and said, "This is Unspeakable Talon. Unspeakable Talon will take us through to the Hall of Prophecies so Harry can hear the orb of prophecy that is in, in part, his name. Please obey all instructions of the Unspeakable and ask no further questions."

Harry, Daphne and Neville all nodded their heads in understanding.

With a voice Harry couldn't make out was either male or female, the Unspeakable led them down the short hallway they were standing in and through a door at the end. As soon as the door closed Harry had a sudden feeling of vertigo as the room appeared to spin.

After a few long seconds the doors stopped their motion and the Unspeakable led their little party through a door. To Harry, they all appeared identical. He wondered how the person in the grey cloak knew which door to open.

Stepping through, the Unspeakable led them through a room full of clocks and hourglasses before passing through a door out the other side of the room.

The door opened up to a massive room in which Harry couldn't see either end or the opposite wall. The light from candles at each end of a rack were insufficient to show how far back the rows went. The room was filled with racks upon racks, all standing side by side with little room for two people to pass one another between them. Harry didn't know how many racks there were but they entered next to row 53.

The Unspeakable led them along the rows as the numbers counted up. Soon, they reached row 97. The Unspeakable stopped for a moment and consulted a small device he - she - held in their left hand. Then the unspeakable led them down that row.

Only a short way down the row, the unspeakable stopped and turned to one of the racks. The wand, lit with a soft Lumos, was used to light the rows. Soon, at about Harry's head height, the unspeakable stopped and, using their wand, indicated a softly glowing orb.

"Mister Potter, if HJP truly is you, then you will be able to lift this orb down," the unspeakable said. "If it is not you, it will stun you. At which point I will Enervate you again.

"If you are able to lift the orb down you will need to tap the top of it with your wand. Then, the prophecy will play for you within the orb. If there is anyone in your party you do not want to hear the prophecy, they need to leave now."

"No, they can stay," said Harry. Taking a deep breath to steady his nerves, Harry drew his wand and held it in his right hand. He then reached out and placed both hands under the orb.

He carefully lifted the orb from it's small wooden cradle and brought it down to his chest. Once there, he transferred the orb to be held only in the palm of his left hand.

Holding the orb a little out in front of himself, Harry then raised his wand and lightly tapped the orb on top. The others gathered around and watched.

The glow of the orb brightened and the grey smoky substance within cleared. Then Harry could see a younger Professor Trelawney sitting in a chair. Her voice was husky and quite deep as she said, "_The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches … Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not … And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies._"

After the prophecy played out the image of Trelawney faded away back into the softly glowing smoky interior.

Still holding it and just staring at it, Harry said, "Well, that just sucks."

"Bloody Hell!" said Neville while Daphne took Harry in her arms and hugged him tightly.

Cygnus was softly cursing under his breath.

With what sounded like a sigh, the Unspeakable said, "Hold on to that, Mister Potter, and follow me." The Unspeakable lifted down the small wooden stand the orb had sat upon on the shelf and led them back out to the end of the rows.

The Unspeakable led them back out through the door by which they entered the Hall and back to the room with the rotating doors. After he - or she - shut the door, the doors spun around them again.

When the doors stopped moving the Unspeakable walked over to another door, opened it, and ushered them through.

This time they came out into what seemed to be a set of offices.

The Unspeakable then led them through a couple of offices before she halted at a plain, unmarked door. They knocked on the door and then opened it, ushering everyone through.

Stepping into the room, Harry noticed it was an office. One that was magically expanded because the doors on either side of the one in which they entered could not have been there given the size of the room they were now in.

Behind the desk sat another person in robes similar to the one the Unspeakable who had led them through to the Hall of Prophecies was wearing. The one who had led them walked up to the desk and placed the wooden stand on it in front of the other. Then he or she left the room closing the door behind them.

Once the door was closed the new Unspeakable drew a wand and conjured four chairs for them to sit upon on their side of the desk.

"Please, sit, everyone," said the new Unspeakable.

After taking their seats, the new Unspeakable reached up and flipped back the cowl of his or her robe.

"Uncle Algie!" exclaimed Neville.

"Hello, young Neville," said the man, for Harry could now see it was a rather nondescript man with a short full beard. His hair was the colour of what Harry had come to know as salt-n-pepper; dark hair turning grey.

"As Neville has now identified me, I guess I should properly identify myself," said 'Uncle Algie'. "I'm known as Unspeakable Croaker, and Neville's Uncle Algernon."

Turning to Harry he held out his left hand and said, "Could you pass me the prophecy orb, please Mister Potter?"

Harry offered the orb to the Unspeakable who took it and placed it on the little wooden stand that was now before him.

He then looked up and said, "So, Albus Dumbledore heard a prophecy spoken by Sybil Trelawney. The prophecy, since Mister Potter was able to pick it up and hear it, was about him and who Dumbledore identified as TMR. Clearly, if Mister Potter is not the dark lord spoken of in the prophecy, then TMR is the dark lord.

"That just leaves identifying just who TMR is. And Dumbledore is not telling anyone who that is."

"Harry believes, he knows," said Cygnus. "And, after what he showed me, I believe he's correct."

Cygnus reached into his robes and withdrew the roll of parchment Harry handed to him back at Hogwarts. Cygnus handed it to Croaker.

Accepting the roll, Croaker unrolled it and studied it for a few moments. "So. Tom Marvolo Riddle changed his name to Voldemort. No wonder we continually hit a brick wall in trying to figure out his origins."

Frowning and thinking hard, Harry was pinching his bottom lip. Looking up at Croaker he said, "Excuse me, Sir; do you mind if I borrow a piece of parchment, a quill and a little ink? I just want to check something."

A little surprised by the request, Croaker drew out the required paraphernalia from his desk and placed them on the desk in front of Harry.

"What is it, Harry?" asked Cygnus.

"I just want to confirm something," replied Harry.

After he'd been writing a few things down and thinking for a bit, Harry sat up straighter and said, "It's an anagram!"

"Sorry?" asked Croaker.

"'Tom Marvolo Riddle' - Sorry - 'Voldemort' is part of an anagram taken from the name 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'.

"Look," said Harry indicating what he had written. "The letters that form 'Voldemort' are all in the name 'Tom Marvolo Riddle'. Remove those letters and you're left with M,A,O,R,I,D and L.

"From those you can get 'Lord', leaving you with M,A and I. And that's 'I am' backwards. Which means, 'Tom Marvolo Riddle' is anagrammatic for 'I am Lord Voldemort'."

Harry sat back with a bit of a smug expression on his face.

Croaker had drawn the sheet of parchment back to himself and was going through the motions, just as Harry did. When he was finished he sat back and softly said, "Well, I'll be. The answer was right there all along."

Croaker sat there thinking for a few moments before he leaned forward again. "Mister Potter, I've now seen the memories of events of what happened at the Sorting at Hogwarts this year; including the two wraiths, one each, that came out of your scar and the head of Quirinus Quirrell. Both were clearly manifestations of Voldemort - Riddle."

Harry nodded back in understanding.

"That also means," said Croaker, "through whatever feat - possibly when he was destroyed by you in October 1981 - his soul became fragmented.

"When you entered the Great Hall on the 1st of September for the Sorting, and because Quirrell was already there and possessed by one fragment of Volde... Riddle's soul, the two coming in close proximity cause the one expelled from you when your binding shattered to be drawn to the one possessing Quirrell.

"Him being hit by the second piece of Riddle's soul, while already under an active possession, killed him. The piece already possessing him was forced to flee, and fused with the piece that came from you, Mister Potter."

"Now," said Croaker, leaning forward and clasping his hands together, "the fact that the new, fused, piece of Riddle's soul did not then move on to the afterlife - together with the fact the prophecy is still in play - means there's still more."

"The prophecy's still in play?" asked Cygnus.

Croaker nodded and said, "If the prophecy had been completed, the prophecy orb would have turned dark. That it hasn't means the prophecy has not yet been completed."

"So, I still have to face him," said Harry worriedly.

"Yes and no," said Croaker. "The prophecy states 'one must die by the hand of the other', but that can mean many things. For instance, you can be Minister of Magic and sign his execution warrant. He will then have died by your hand. Or, we can wire him up in explosives, hand you the detonator, and you push the button. There are many ways it can be done."

"So I take it, then, the Department of Mysteries will be tackling this problem?" asked Cygnus.

"Vol... Riddle represents a viable and known threat to Magical Britain," said Croaker. "So that means we have the mandate to tackle the problem. On top of that, we had the mandate during the last war, and Minister Bagnold did not rescind it after Vol – Riddle supposedly died."

"Excellent," said Cygnus.

Looking directly at Harry again, Croaker said, "Don't worry about the prophecy, Mister Potter. That's my and my department's job. All you need to do is stay alive. Go and enjoy being a First Year at Hogwarts. When the time comes, we'll call on you, alright?"

"Alright, Sir," replied Harry, a lot more calmly.

"Good," said Croaker, firmly, as he stood up. "Please follow me and I'll lead you back out of this place."

Croaker then led them back to the lifts.

While they were waiting, Neville quietly asked, "Uncle Algie?"

Croaker, who had redonned his cowl, asked, "Yes, Neville?"

"The prophecy; it said, 'Born as the seventh month dies'. That means it could have been me, couldn't it?" asked Neville. "I mean, Harry and I were born only a few hours apart."

Not answering straight away, Croaker waited a few moments in thought before he replied, "Yes, Neville; I guess that could be true. How does that make you feel?"

"Relieved, that it's Harry," the boy replied before turning to Harry. "Sorry."

Harry smiled back and said, "It's okay, Neville. I completely understand. How can I be angry when I, too, wish it was someone else."

Croaker did not have the heart to tell his great-nephew that he could be considered 'marked as his equal' due to the psychological impact on him of his parents long-term stay in Saint Mungo's. Or that Riddle hadn't marked him – yet.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	20. Potter Holdings

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty – Potter Holdings**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Exiting the lift back in the atrium, Harry asked, "Do you mind if we head for Diagon Alley for a little while? I need to get my eyes properly checked, now that my prescription has changed."

"Your - prescription?" asked Cygnus.

"Yeah, that's what the muggles call it," replied Harry. "Now that my eyesight isn't being adversely affected by the soul fragment I'd like to get them checked again and have my glasses replaced, if necessary."

Cygnus nodded and said, "If you think it necessary."

"I do, Cygnus," replied Harry. "Thank you."

After floo'ing to Diagon Alley, Harry led their small group to 'his' magical optometrist.

Entering, he saw the old man shopkeeper from before. "Hello, Sir," said Harry.

"Ah, Mister Potter," said the shopkeeper warmly. "I had read about your little incident during the Sorting. I take it your spectacles are no longer suitable?"

"Yes, Sir," replied Harry. "If you'd be so kind, I'd like to get my eyes checked once more and, possibly, new spectacles."

Indicating the same seat Harry had sat upon last time he said, "Take a seat then, Mister Potter."

Harry climbed into the seat and laid back while the other three stood back and watched.

After retrieving a small card of parchment from his small file cabinet, the old man came forward.

"Now, let's see," he waved his wand over Harry's eyes and compared what he discovered with what was on the card.

"Ah!" he said. "Completely normal eyesight with a very minor affliction of hypermetropia - far sightedness - which will not become a problem until you are older. That means, you will eventually need glasses for reading. Other than that, I can see you have a familial history of myopia - short sightedness - but you show no signs of it now. I dare say you will not suffer from it in the future.

"In a nutshell, Mister Potter, you do not require spectacles at this time. And, from my experience, you will not need spectacles for reading until your years are quite advanced."

"Thank you, Sir," said Harry. "However, I'd still like to be fitted for a pair of sunglasses with the same four charms I had on my prescripted pair you supplied previously. Plus, I'd like a pair of plain glass ones with the same four charms."

"You're worried about someone attempting to enter your mind, Mister Potter?" asked the shopkeeper.

"I am," replied Harry. "The - Headmaster - is a master Legilimens. I've felt both him and another member of staff attempting to read my surface thoughts over the past couple of weeks. I feel the attempts and they tend to give me a slight headache. I'd rather block them completely."

"Harry, Legilimency upon a minor, especially one of a Noble and Ancient House, is _illegal_," said Cygnus, concerned.

"I know," replied Harry. "However, passive Legilimency is wandless and there's no way to prove it. A master Legilimens merely needs to look you in the eye to carry it out."

Angrily, Cygnus said, "In that case, I want Daphne protected, as well."

The shopkeeper said, "I can fit you all with plain lenses in a very stylish frame, if you'd like. The charms I can place on the glass of the lenses will block everything up to a very forceful wanded cast."

Turning to Harry, Cygnus asked, "Harry, who is the other staff member you suspect?"

"Severus Snape," replied Harry. "I figured out the only way he could act as a spy for Dumbledore within the Death Eaters is if he's a master Occlumens. And, if he's a master Occlumens, it's no great stretch to also be a master Legilimens."

"Snape," growled Cygnus. Turning to his daughter, he asked, "Daphne, do you have a problem with wearing glasses while you speak with either the Headmaster or Professor Snape?"

"If either are attempting to read my _mind_?" asked Daphne, affronted. "Definitely not!"

"In that case," said the shopkeeper, "How about we peruse the shelves for something that suits?"

After an hour, Harry's two new pairs of glasses were ready. Daphne, and even Neville, had selected the pairs of glasses they wanted. Neville also went for a second pair, the same style mirror-surfaced sunglasses Harry had selected, but with a different base colour on the frame.

Because he'd done Harry's already, the shopkeeper was able to quickly cast the required Charms on the next three pairs; those for Daphne and Neville.

Though, Cygnus tried to get in first, Harry told the shopkeeper to take the payment for all five pairs from his personal accounts. When Cygnus tried to argue, Harry told him Daphne would soon enough be his responsibility, alone. He had no problem with purchasing for her an item of eyewear that would add to her protections. And Cygnus relented.

"As they left the store, Harry said, "There's just one more place to stop before we go,"

"Oh?" asked Cygnus.

With a nod, Harry said, "It was Hermione's birthday last Thursday. None of us knew of it as she hadn't said anything to any of us. However, Padma Patil heard it from her sister, Parvati, and told me in confidence last night in the common room. So, I want to buy her a birthday present before we leave; even if it will be somewhat belated."

"I didn't know about Hermione's birthday," said Neville.

"Me, neither," said Daphne.

"I know," said Harry. "I was thinking of getting her something from all of us, and people can chip in what they can afford."

"And what were you thinking of getting her?" asked Daphne.

"A post owl for her parents," replied Harry. "Dead useful; and it'll allow her parents to be able to send her letters and packages without having to come in to here to send them via the Post Owl Office."

"That's - actually a very smart gift, Harry," said Daphne.

"Indeed, it is!" said Cygnus. "And this time, you'll let us help pay for it."

After visiting the Owl Emporium Daphne selected the owl, a Long-eared Owl that had brown and tawny colouring with black 'streaks'. The shopkeeper said it was a male and rather large for the breed, standing at about 14 inches in height. When asked about it's range, he said it was built for long distance travelling, so could easily fly from one end of the isles to the other.

"It's perfect," said Harry. "As it's considered a native and not a threatened species, no one will go running off to British Wildlife to tattle if they see the Grangers have one roosting in their yard."

Turning to the shopkeeper, he said, "We'll take it. Plus, we also need: an indoor portable roost, a bag of owl treats, a small book on taking care of them, and package the whole lot up into a shrunk parcel."

"Easy enough to do," said the shopkeeper.

"And, can I also borrow a sheet of parchment, a quill and some ink?" asked Harry. "I need to let the receiver know the owl is a gift to them."

With a nod, the shopkeeper disappeared for a few moments to bring back the required writing implements.

Harry, Daphne and Neville then set about writing the letter to the Grangers. Harry remembered their address as he saw it written on the inside cover of one of Hermione's books she brought from home.

Within twenty minutes, Harry carried the owl outside with the parcel and letter attached before launching it into the air above the Alley.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When Harry, Daphne and Neville returned to the castle later that afternoon, they each wore their new spectacles. Cygnus saw them floo'ed away from Diagon Alley before leaving directly for Greengrass Estate.

When Daphne was concerned they detracted from her looks, Harry gently leaned forward and, for the first time, kissed her. "Not to me, they don't," he softly said.

Daphne, at first shocked, blushed and leaned forward before saying, "If I was any older, Mister Potter, that comment would have earned you a decent snogging."

"Oh?" asked Harry. "And did you have anyone in mind to award me that decent snogging?"

Daphne grinned back and smacked him on the arm. "Prat!" she exclaimed.

Neville, sporting his new 'shades', chuckled. "You're a brave man, Mister Potter."

"Ah!" replied Harry. "But, thanks to our fathers, I already have the delectable Miss Greengrass firmly in my clutches. Mwa ha ha!"

Neville laughed while Harry earned another smack to his arm from Daphne.

As they entered the main doors of the castle they were greeted by Dumbledore, himself.

"I take it you have successfully concluded your business?" he asked with his twinkle running full bore.

"Yes, thank you, Headmaster," replied Harry.

"And might I enquire what that business was?" asked the old man.

"You may, Headmaster," replied Harry. "But, as it was _family_ business, it is none of _your_ business."

"I am the Headmaster of this school, Mister Potter," said the Headmaster sternly. His twinkle now absent. "It is my responsibility to know what my students are up to when they leave the grounds."

"And, I told you, Headmaster," replied Harry, coolly, leading the other two past and onto the stairs. "It was family business. You need not know anything else."

A clearly upset Dumbledore frowned mightily in response before storming off towards his office.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Grand Sorcerer, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Holder of the Order of Merlin First Class, ex-Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, ex-Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, was a man unused to being so thoroughly sidelined. However, he also knew it was no one's fault but his own.

In the past two weeks his grand plan for the Greater Good of the Wizarding World had been reduced to a shambles, he had lost almost _all_ of his political power, his popularity was in ruin, his staff now questioned him over his actions; but, more importantly, young Harry Potter was well and truly outside of his control. With the arrest and charges laid against his maternal aunt and uncle, the protections placed on the boy through the blood wards over Privett Drive were weakening daily. And the boy could not be forced to return there to restrengthen them. After the trial of the Dursleys in Courtroom Five he wouldn't have sent the boy back to them, anyway.

He knew the preceding ten years were going to be dark days for the boy, what with the aunt's hatred for magic; and, he expected the boy to come to school grateful to be out from under the roof of the Dursleys for at least part of the year; but, he had no idea it would be as bad for him as it clearly was. He also realised the boy was right when he said it was _his_ fault it was bad, because he didn't find the time to go and check on his charge. And now the boy clearly - and for good reason - hated him for it.

With a sigh Dumbledore grasped a pinch of floo powder from his pot of it on the mantle above his fireplace. He tossed it in and called, "Potions Master's Office, Hogwarts." As the flames turned green he stuck his head within and called, "Severus."

Snape, who was sitting at his personal potions workstation at the time of the call, cast a Time Suspension Charm over the workstation before turning around to look at his fireplace. "What is it, Headmaster? I'm in the middle of brewing a new batch of Homesickness Cure Infusion for Pomfrey."

"Come to my office, please," replied Dumbledore. "We need to talk."

With a grumbling sigh, Snape rose from his workstation and said, "I shall be there, momentarily, Headmaster." He first placed another, longer, Time Suspension Charm over his entire workstation before turning to the door and striding out.

A few minutes later he was striding into the Headmaster's office.

"You wanted to see me, Headmaster?" he asked the old man.

"Ah, Severus," replied Dumbledore. "Please, take a seat. We have much to discuss."

Covering his own sigh of frustration, the Potions Master took seat on the other side of Dumbledore's desk.

"How well have you gained the confidence of young Miss Greengrass?" asked Dumbledore, once Snape was properly seated.

"Not one jot of an iota, Albus," replied Snape. "You know that."

"It is imperative you regain her trust, Severus," said Dumbledore. "She is the key to regaining the trust of young Mister Potter."

"Albus, it is difficult to _regain_ something I never had in the first place," replied Snape with a sour look. "How do you propose I do what you ask?"

Dumbledore gave a dismissive wave before replying, "I'm sure you'll find a way, Severus. Our plan depends on it."

"_Your_ plan, Headmaster," replied Snape. "Not mine."

"We _must_ regain young Harry's trust," said Dumbledore ignoring Snape's response. "The future of the wizarding world depends on it."

"Headmaster, I fear you're flogging a dead horse," replied Snape. "_Your_ plans will have to continue apace, _without_ the participation of the Potter brat."

"Alas, they cannot, Severus," replied Dumbledore with a sigh. "Harry Potter is the key to everything. His destiny is to face Tom. Mine is to guide him to that point in time."

"I know the prophecy is everything to you, Headmaster," said Snape carefully. "But, I do not recall there being a part for you to play within it."

"The prophecy was told to me," replied Dumbledore. "It was told to me so that I may guide young Harry."

"Perhaps it was told to you so you can _train_ the boy, Headmaster," said Snape. "You've done nothing towards that these past eleven years."

"Harry needs to enjoy his childhood," said Dumbledore with another throwaway gesture. "There will be plenty of time for him to receive training."

"Better to be trained early and before needed, than too late and not be ready," replied Snape.

"Do not question me on this, Severus," frowned Dumbledore. "I will know when it is time."

Moving to rise, Snape said, "Then, if there is nothing else, Headmaster; I have potions under a Time Suspension Charm to which I need to return before the Charm ends."

"Very well," sighed Dumbledore. "You may go."

With cloak billowing, Snape left the office to return to his potions.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Sunday, glorious Sunday. If he hadn't planned on meeting Daphne and heading to breakfast together Harry would have gladly had the day as a lie-in. But, future wives wait for no man - or boy.

After his morning ablutions Harry ducked straight down to the Great Hall. Surprisingly, he met Daphne just as she was coming up from the dungeons with Tracey.

"Good morning, dear heart," he said. Then, with only a slight hesitation, said, "And you, too, Daphne."

Both looked gobsmacked at him standing there grinning at the pair of them for a few moments before Tracey burst into laughter. Daphne, as usual, hit him on the arm. "Prat!" she said, blushing.

"Good one, Potter," said Tracey still chuckling. "You had me going there."

"You know, Daphne," said Harry wincing slightly as he massaged his arm. "If you keep hitting me like that you're going to leave a permanent mark."

"Garbage!" she stated. "I'm not hitting you anywhere _near_ hard enough for that yet."

Harry looked over to see she was smirking just slightly with her nose, just right, in the air. "Yet?" he asked.

"Yet!" she replied defiantly.

Harry gave a dramatic sigh and said, "Not yet married; and already beaten into submission."

As they were approaching the Ravenclaw table, their chosen destination for the morning, Tracey said, "Face it, Potter. You may be destined to be the Lord of the land, but _Daphne_ will be the Lady of the manor."

Helping them to their seats, Harry asked, "Manor? Does that mean I have to buy one of those?"

Daphne looked at him a little shocked before she said, "Harry, you're a Potter. You already have one in Wales somewhere. I daresay you also have other properties scattered around the world."

"Oh," said Harry a little surprised while sitting down. "I guess I should take a closer look at that large folio the goblins gave me to read, then."

"You don't know?" asked Tracey.

Harry shrugged as he reached to load his plate, "I know I've got a fair bit of money; and that there's a whole pile of stocks; but I've not taken the time to go through it all."

Daphne set her knife and fork down and glared at him. "Harry James Potter. You are the Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House. It is your _responsibility_ to keep on top of your finances. Honestly, Harry."

"Well," said Harry. "Do you know your way around those documents, then? Can you help me?"

"I'm the Heir Presumptive of a Noble and Most Ancient House," replied Daphne with a scowl. "And, as we're going to be married, and to which Tracey alluded, I'm destined to be Lady Potter. It's my responsibility to both Houses to learn as much as I can about the finances so I may aid you.

"Father has taught me quite a lot over the past few years so I will be ready when the time comes. So, yes; I will help you go through the documents."

"Thank you," said Harry quite gratefully. "I've read through a lot of it but I've not been taught business. It's not something they taught to Primary school children in Surrey. You'd be doing me a favour to help me there."

"No," replied Daphne. "As the Potter fortune will fall to us both once we are married, it is only right I ensure you don't do something stupid and lose it all before we even give our vows in the Bonding Ceremony. I need to protect my assets."

"But, still, you don't have to," said Harry, buttering a piece of toast. "I'm grateful."

After breakfast, Harry dashed up to the Ravenclaw tower and collected the folio he received from the goblins. He loaded it, and a sheaf of parchment, some ink and a couple of quills, into his bookbag before returning to the Great Hall.

The others were all waiting for him.

"Oh, Hi," he said. "You're all helping?"

"We volunteered," said Neville. "Like Daphne, we all, except for Hermione, have received instruction in managing the House finances."

"And my Dad's taught me about the London Stock Exchange and the 'Footsie'," said Hermione.

"The what?" asked Harry, before anyone could jump in. He had his bookbag on the table, had drawn out the large folio, and handed it to Daphne.

"The 'Footsie' - the F.T.S.E. - Financial Times Stock Exchange," explained Hermione. "The 'Footsie' is a selection of indexes that measure how the London Stock Exchange is performing overall. As such, it is a quick guide to whether the stock exchange is losing or gaining money."

"Oh-kay!" said Harry. "I thought it was a new dance move, or something."

"Honestly, Harry," huffed Hermione. "Why on earth would I be talking about a new dance move when I was talking about the London Stock Exchange?"

"I have no idea," laughed Harry. "That's why I was confused."

Daphne had remained quiet and was going through the folio slowly separating what was contained within into smaller piles.

"Alright," she said. "From what I can see, so far, your father was really busy managing investments in the year leading up to October 1981..." She suddenly stopped talking and looked at Harry. "Sorry," she said.

"No, it's alright," said Harry soothingly. "I've come to grips with their deaths now."

Nodding, Daphne looked back down to what she was reading. "Your father was busy managing investments until - that time - Clearly, he was making good use of the time they were in hiding.

"According to this," she said, tapping the sheet in front of her, "he made quite a few significant movements of funds from out of the wizarding world into the muggle world stock exchanges. From this, it is clear he believed the wizarding economy was either in the process of collapsing, or would soon collapse. However, he made the movements over a period of about a year. Never too much at one time."

Reaching across to one of the piles, she handed it to Hermione, "These are the stocks he purchased in the muggle world during that time and just before. As well as the existing stocks he owned at the time."

Hermione eagerly accepted the pile and started going through it. But, before she went too far, she reached into Harry's bag and snagged for herself a couple sheets of parchment, ink and a quill. Soon, she was writing down columns of information.

"However," said Daphne, "He didn't only choose stocks in the muggle world. He didn't abandon the wizarding economy, completely. He also purchased and sold stocks and business interests in the wizarding world. These are what he purchased here and abroad."

She passed that large stack off to Neville. He split it between himself, Hannah and Susan. Together, they also snagged some parchment and a quill. They shared ink with Hermione.

"He also divested himself of a lot of monetary bonds and bought overseas currency," she said, passing a pile to Tracey.

"And, finally, he purchased a great deal of overseas and local commercial property," moving the pile closer to herself.

"These last few pages are a financial summary of your total holdings," she said, passing the remainder to Harry. "You need to acquaint yourself with that."

Curious, Harry picked up the sheets of parchment Daphne had passed to him. He didn't see them when he was going through the folio. That's when he realised they were on the bottom. That surprised him as the muggles liked to keep that sort of information on top, so it was both easy to find and explained the rest.

From what Harry read the Potter fortune was staggering in it's size. His view of the vaults the first day he visited Gringotts, and the gold within, represented only a tiny fraction of the Potter wealth. Nearly all of it was invested in either stocks, property or businesses both home and abroad.

Alright," said Harry eventually, feeling a little woozy. "Alright. This - is incredible."

Nodding, Daphne said, "Alright. Let's hear it. Hermione; you want to go first?"

After the group had sifted through all the information before them, Hermione was almost jumping in her seat in excitement.

"Harry's right. This is incredible." Looking to Harry, she said, "Your father was clearly being advised by your mother and others who knew the muggle world _really_ well. He made a few really good stock purchases; and a couple of absolutely brilliant ones.

"Firstly, whoever advised him to invest in both Microsoft and Apple Computers did really well for the Potter family. I won't know how well until I can get my Dad to send me a copy of the Financial Times, but the returns are constant and profitable from Apple Computers and are surging really well from Microsoft. You want to keep both of those, so don't let the goblins sell them on your behalf.

"There's also stock here for a couple of other telecommunications companies that are returning decent profits. One, however, you may want the goblins to divest you of. I've circled that one for you.

"Other than that, there's a few here that are what are called 'Blue Ribbon' companies. That means they will maintain steady and healthy returns unless something drastic happens, such as another global war.

"There's also a few start-ups he invested in that, I suspect, have since collapsed. But a few seem to be sustaining themselves for the moment.

"All in," she concluded, "this is a very good and diverse portfolio of muggle stocks that only requires a minor amount of tweaking. I'll be able to give you a better report once I get a copy of the Financial Times."

"Thank you, Hermione," said Daphne, before she turned to Neville and company. "Neville?"

With a nod in recognition, Neville explained, "James Potter was thinking long term here. He purchased a number of businesses that owned their own properties. So, if the business collapsed due to the war, he would still own the land on which the business sat. In some cases, the land and building was worth more than the business itself.

"Here in magical Britain, Harry now holds the deed to the land for a significant portion of Diagon Alley, Knockturn Alley, Hogsmeade, and McDonald Street in Inverness. He also holds the deed to the land for a few businesses in Rue de Magique in Paris, Assistenten Stabe in Berlin, and Brujas Manera in Madrid. A few others are scattered around in Magical Salem in the US, Magical Australia, and Magical Japan. _All of them_ are returning a healthy and steady return."

Susan took over. "As for magical businesses Harry owns a moderate share in, the significant ones in Britain are: The Daily Prophet, twenty five percent; Flourish & Blotts, twenty five percent; The Leaky Cauldron, twelve and half percent; Quality Quidditch Supplies, ten percent; and Magical Menagerie, ten percent. They're all in Diagon Alley.

"In Knockturn Alley, you own a pub called the Warlock's Curse. And there's a note here we shouldn't have probably read that states the proprietor there, back in 1980 and 81, was providing intelligence to the Order via the goblins through a drop box.

"In Hogsmeade: You actually own the Shrieking Shack outright; Honeydukes, twenty percent; Gladrags, ten percent; Scrivenshaft's, ten percent; and Dervish and Banges, five percent.

"There are others but I'll let you go through this to decide for yourself what is and isn't important. However, none of the businesses are currently running at a loss. In all of the businesses you're currently acting as a silent partner. However, with the percentages you hold, you can become more active in a lot of them should you desire to do so."

Daphne gave a few nods before turning to Tracey. "Trace?" she asked.

"Harry owns quite a few bonds that can now be cashed out in a lot of the wizarding world's currency," replied Tracey. "They include: war bonds for the Galleon; and treasury bonds for France's Argent, Spain's Dinero, Germany's Geld, and the America's Franklin, to name a few. The sums are quite significant.

"The most telling is the war bonds. The Ministry effectively owes the Potters well over two million Galleons. If Harry was to cash in the lot in one fell swoop it would probably bankrupt the Ministry right there and then. I doubt they'd be able to pay it back, even though they're required to do it immediately."

"And that leaves me," said Daphne turning to her own stack. "As I've already mentioned, the Potters own a manor. It's in Merlin's Bridge, near Haverfordwest, Pembrokeshire, Wales. There's Potter's Cottage in Godric's Hollow, which was bought only about eighteen months before - you know - and which has been claimed by the Ministry as a place of historical interest, but nothing here that says they've legally purchased it. There's Lily's Pad, which sits above Scribbulus Everchanging Inks in Diagon Alley. And, the building known as the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade. That's all the ones in Magical Britain.

"Overseas, in Europe, there's a Chateau in France on the south coast near the town of Toulon called La Retraite De Potier - Potter's Retreat. And, peculiarly, a winter house in Australia on the east coast in the town of Byron Bay simply called - The Winter House.

"Those look like the private residences for the Potters. On top of those there's quite a few investment properties the Potters own that are rented out. All bar two are in the wizarding world. The two that are not are a house in Spinner's End near Weston-super-Mare; and a house in the township of Little Whinging in Surrey."

"Let me guess," sighed Harry. "The one in Little Whinging is rented out by a family by the name of Dursley?"

Daphne, a little surprised, rummaged through the property reports before she looked up and said, "Got it in one."

"When were the two places in the muggle world purchased?" asked Harry.

Daphne rummaged a bit more and said, "Both properties were acquired in - March 1978. According to this, Lily Evans purchased half of the property in Spinner's End off her sister after already owning half of it. They were co-owners on the death of her maternal mother. A week earlier, James Potter purchased the house in Little Whinging. The Dursley's have been the only tenants. Both purchases were handled by the same muggle law firm."

"And when was Lily's Pad purchased?" asked Harry.

Daphne flipped through the documents before replying, "June 1978."

Thinking, Harry said, "Alright. It looks like my maternal grandparent's, the Evanses, died shortly before March 1977. My Mum and Aunt Petunia were left their house as co-owners. The sisters did not want to own the house together, so it was organised for my Mum to buy off Aunt Petunia her share.

"My aunt and uncle married in May 1978. And they immediately moved into the house in Little Whinging that my father had purchased only a short time earlier. I wonder what the arrangement was there..."

"Harry, this means you were their landlord," said Daphne.

With a snort, Harry asked, "What are they paying in rent?"

"One - Pound - per month," replied Daphne. "Whatever _that_ is."

"Current exchange rate holds at about Five Pounds per Galleon," replied Harry. "A British Pound is currently worth about three Sickles, eleven Knuts."

"That's _all_?" exclaimed Daphne.

She searched back through the documents and found a contract. Reading through it she said, "This is a contract on the property in Little Whinging. Here, it says the property is liened. In March 1997, Petunia Dursley nee Evans has first option on purchasing the property at it's original purchase price. The only stipulations is that it cannot be passed on to her heirs if she dies prior to March 1997, and that the condition of the property must be maintained in _at least_ as good a condition as it was when first purchased."

"Well, God _damn_ it!" growled Harry.

"What's wrong, Harry?" asked Daphne. "While it may mean there'll be a slight loss due to the loss of monies that could have been made from the monies invested in purchasing the property, you don't actually lose anything out of the arrangement other than interest which would have been gained on the original monies involved."

"_I_ was the one who maintained the house for them," he growled. "_I_ was the one who did all the chores around the house, including maintaining it in that good condition. Most of my chores were around things like painting the house each year, weeding the gardens, mowing the lawns, cleaning and repainting the paths, painting the interior door frames and walls; hell, I even rewallpapered the interior walls once.

"_I_ was their landlord and owner of the house and they used _me_ to meet the conditions of their stupid contract that would allow them to purchase the house from me at the original purchase price." He sighed and said, "I bet they were laughing to themselves over it, the whole time."

"Well, they're not laughing now," said Daphne. "And, if the house isn't being maintained, you can take it back off them. We'll just have to wait to see what the muggle legal system does to them first."

"I can't kick them out already?" he asked.

With a small shake of her head, she replied, "No. They've paid their rent, in advance, right up to March 1997."

"Damn!" replied Harry.

"Anyways," said Daphne in an attempt to change the subject. "We now know the House of Potter is in an excellent financial situation. There may be a few shares that need to be sold off, and maybe some more purchased; plus, the various personal properties around the world need to be checked over; but everything is otherwise in a good condition.

"I suggest, Harry," she said, looking straight at him, "we organise for a time to go to the properties and have a good look over them. These documents don't show if any of the properties are in stasis or not - though, I suspect they all are - but we need to check them, anyhow."

Harry nodded and said, "They've been like they are since October 1981, at least. I think they can wait until Christmas holidays. We may even be able to make an excursion of it."

"And, I think that's enough of the finances for now," said Daphne, indicating for everyone to pass her the paperwork. "You and I will need to just go for a walk and talk some time later. You're looking quite stressed."

After Daphne had reorganised all the paperwork, and placed them back in the folio, Harry collected all the spare parchment, ink and quills and pocketed the lot into his bookbag.

"Alright, then," he said. "Shall we adjourn to the library afterwards?"

"Library!" said Hermione. "We've a couple of hours before lunch. If we get homework out of the way, then lunch, we can help with getting the club ready."

"Any dissent?" asked Daphne.

No one disagreed, and they all rose from the table. Harry looked at his friends and said, "To you all; thank you very much for your help. I really appreciate it."

They all smiled back and Susan said, "That was actually a lot of fun."

As they were about to leave, Hermione asked, "Harry, can I borrow Hedwig?"

"Sure!" he said, before asking, "Why?"

"I want to send a letter to my Dad asking if he can forward on a copy of the Financial Times," she replied. "That way, we'll know just what all those shares in muggle businesses you own are worth."

Harry grinned and replied, "Sure, why not?"

The Seven made their way out of the Great Hall, to collect homework notes to recongregate in the library.

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	21. First Prank

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty One – First Prank**

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After meeting again in the library, Harry and Hermione walked in to meet Daphne, Tracey, Susan and Hannah had already beaten them there. Neville came in a short while later.

"And - here's where we see the disadvantage of our Houses being in the upper reaches of the castle," said Neville. "You have so much further to go to get things you need."

"At least it's warmer up there," replied Tracey. "I shudder to think just how cold it's going to get down in the snake den when winter is fully upon us."

"So, what's first?" asked Hermione eagerly.

"Settle, Hermione," said Susan. "It's _homework_."

"But I _like_ homework," replied Hermione.

After a bit of good-natured ribbing, The Seven were soon working on various assignments.

A couple of hours later, Neville sat back and said, "That's me done, I think."

Susan and Hannah said, "Us, too."

"Harry?" asked Daphne.

"Hmm?" replied Harry, his nose in a book.

"You're often the first of us finished," she said. "What are you reading?"

"Oh," he replied, setting the book down. "Just something on something called blood wards. I wanted to see if there was a specific reason Dumbledore insisted on me being placed at the Dursleys."

"Find anything?" asked Hermione.

With a shake of his head, Harry replied, "Not yet. At least, nothing that would _specifically_ mean I'd be placed at the Dursleys. I think it might have a lot to do with how my aunt is my closest living blood relative. Otherwise, there would be far stronger wards that could be placed on a wizarding home over a muggle home."

"You did say Dumbledore also placed you there so you wouldn't grow up knowing you were famous," said Susan.

"True," replied Harry. "But, that doesn't mean I couldn't have grown up outside of wizarding Britain. I'm sure, as he was Supreme Mugwump, he could have found a home for me in another country where being the Boy-Who-Lived wasn't that much of a big deal."

Shaking his head, he said, "No. There was something about aunt Petunia that made him do it; I'm sure of it"

"I'm sure you'll find it, Harry," said Daphne soothingly. "But, I think it's time for lunch."

With agreement around the table, The Seven packed up. As Harry had already packed away his things, he carried the texts that had been brought to the table over the past couple of hours and returned them to their shelves.

After lunch the seven separated. Harry led Daphne to the Entrance Hall. Just before they arrived he asked, "Do you think you're going to need your cloak? We can always head down to the dungeons so you can collect it before we head outside."

With a shake of her head, she replied, "No. As long as we stay away from the lake, I think I'll be fine."

Harry merely nodded and, after accepting her hand in the crook of his elbow, escorted her outside for a walk around the grounds.

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The next morning, The Seven were sitting at the Hufflepuff table finishing their breakfasts, when the mail came in. Harry was very quick to spot Hermione's parent's new owl. He almost didn't see the large Barn owl that landed in front of himself.

Untying the shrunken package, Harry could see it was redirected via the Post Office before being sent on to him. It was the package that contained the costume he'd ordered, plus the catalogue.

Hermione was casually talking to the owl before her, complementing it on it's plumage, as she was untying a package from each of it's legs.

The Seven were each surreptitiously smiling at each other as they watched her work. Neville even reached over with a piece of bacon and handed it to the bird. Who, as soon as one of its legs was free of it's burden, proceeded to use it's talons to eat it.

As soon as it's legs were free the owl moved to sit on Hermione's shoulder, startling the girl in the process.

Hermione opened the first box and drew from it a small bracelet and a letter on muggle stationary.

In shock, she opened the letter and quietly read it with one hand while holding the bracelet in the other.

After a few moments, Harry and the others watched as she gasped, before turning to look more closely at the owl. "Hello, Rocket," she sniffled to the bird.

The owl hooted softly in reply, giving itself a little ruffle of feathers.

Returning to her letter she looked more closely at the bracelet. The others watched as tears fell from Hermione's eyes. She sniffed and carefully folded the letter before placing it within her robes. Only then did she look around the others.

"Who..." she stuttered, before taking a deep breath and trying to centre herself. "Who was responsible for buying my parents an owl?"

Neville grinned and said, "We all were. Harry was a little upset we didn't know it was your birthday, last Thursday, because you didn't tell us. So, he thought the nicest belated present we could get you was an owl for your parents."

"This way," said Hannah, "Your parents are going to be able to contact you when they want to or need to, instead of having to go into Diagon Alley, or wait until you send a letter to them."

"We all put money into buying it," said Daphne, "together with a portable roost, some owl treats and a small booklet on how to care for a post owl."

"And Daphne selected the breed of owl based on it's ability to be able to cover long distances in flight, and it's ability to carry pretty weighty parcels," said Harry.

"And it looks adorable," said Daphne a bit smugly.

"What's it's name?" asked Susan. "Part of the gift is that your parents needed to name it."

"They named him 'Rocket'," replied Hermione, still sniffling a little. "And they said to make sure I said thank you to you all for such an _amazing_ gift.

"A - And I'm sorry I didn't tell you about my birthday. I've never had friends who bought me a present before, so I didn't think it was important."

She then carefully rose from her seat and hugged each of the others while softly saying thank you.

Susan was closest and first, so she handed the girl a handkerchief. "I just don't want my school robes stained with tears," she grinned.

Sitting down again, Hermione lifted the owl off her shoulder and fed it another slice of bacon while she looked it over.

"He's _absolutely_ gorgeous," she softly said.

"Well, if you're not going to give it a return letter," said Neville after a few moments, "You'd best release it so it can fly back to your parents."

"Oh!" said Hermione, a little startled in realisation. "I'll just dash off a quick note letting them know I received the packages, thanked you all, and that I'll write to them when I've got more time to do so."

After a quick couple of minutes of writing, Hermione folded up the parchment upon which she was writing, and tied it to the owl's leg. It immediately took to the air. She watched it the whole time until it disappeared into the enchanted ceiling.

Breakfast was winding up and many students had already left. They headed off to their first classes for the week. In the case of Ravenclaw and Gryffindor, that was Charms with Professor Flitwick.

On the way, Hermione, who was walking between Harry and Neville, asked Harry, "So, all that stuff about attending family business. It wasn't just so you could buy me an owl, was it?"

"No, that was actual family business," replied Harry. "We just stopped in at the Owl Emporium on our way through Diagon Alley."

"Mum and Dad also told me why you sent Rocket to them, even though he's my gift," she said. "Its very considerate of you all. And dead clever."

Neville, in a moment of clarity, said, "It wasn't the owl that was our gift to you, Hermione; it was the ability for your parents to be able to keep in contact with you that was the true gift. Since they can now keep in contact with you, they'll be less worried about you; and you'll be less worried about them not being able to get in contact with you if an emergency or some such crops up back home. And, that makes _you_ happier."

That earned Neville another hug. This time it came with a kiss on the cheek.

"However," said Harry, "At Christmas your present from me, at least, will be _all_ you."

"Thank you," she softly said.

"Now all each of us has to figure out," said Harry, pretending to be thinking really hard. "Is what sort of gift to buy you that doesn't have pages within."

That earned him a grin and a smack on the arm before she gave him a big hug. Then she turned on Neville and gave him another.

When she released him she said to them, "You people are the _best_ friends!"

"Dashing, too!" said Harry, smirking at Neville.

"And handsome," said Neville. "Don't forget handsome!"

"Oh, you two!" stamped Hermione trying to frown and stop from laughing. "Honestly!" She couldn't hold her laughter back anymore and laughed aloud.

After class, Harry asked Neville to find him the Weasley twins for him.

Frowning a little in confusion, he asked, "Why do you want to see them?"

"I'm setting up a prank and managed to get them to agree to help me," replied Harry. "I figured, if we can work _with_ them on pranks, we're less likely to be the target of theirs."

"That's - brilliant!" said Neville, not with a little wonder in his voice. "What's the prank? Who's it aimed at? Can I help?"

Harry laughed and replied, "Woah, Nev. Slow down a little. The prank is, I'm going to dress as a character out of a muggle movie. Dumbledore would not recognise the character, but I think every muggleborn will. The prank will, in effect, make Dumbledore think I'm going completely dark while the muggleborns will know for a fact I'm just pranking Dumbledore.

"I'm going to pull it in the Great Hall just as dinner starts, so there will be lots of witnesses. The muggleborns will recognise the character immediately, so I'm hoping they'll let the magically-raised at their tables know it's a big prank."

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At lunch, Harry was sitting with the others at the Slytherin table when one of the twins' dorm mates walked over and handed him a note. Moving it down to his lap he opened it and read.

_Harrikins,_

_Meet us in the antechamber you were in immediately prior to the sorting, straight after lunch._

_G & F_

Folding the note back up, Harry shoved it into one of his pockets.

"What's going on?" asked Daphne, having noticed the note.

In a near-whisper, he replied, "The twins are working with me on a prank aimed at Dumbledore. I need to meet them right after lunch and before next class."

"What's your next class, again?" she asked.

"Afternoon nap time; otherwise known as History of Magic," he replied.

"Well, I would say, 'don't be late for the class'; but, I don't think that's possible," she sighed. "I think the entire class could be unattended and Binns wouldn't notice."

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As soon as he'd finished his lunch, Harry told the others he needed to talk to someone for a few minutes and asked Neville to escort Hermione to the next class alone. Then he quickly left the Hall.

Entering the Entrance Hall antechamber he noticed the twins were already there and waiting.

"Hi, mates," he said, before pulling from his pocket the still shrunken package. A quick tap with the tip of his wand and the package was returned to normal size.

He quickly resheathed his wand and pulled the package open to reveal the costume he'd ordered. Surprising, even to him, the costume came with the boots and gloves. He pulled it out of the box and let the box fall to the floor before asking the twins, "Recognise this?"

"No - wait!" said one of them. "That's what one of those people on that poster Lee has on his bedroom wall is wearing."

"Oh, yes," replied the other, "Now I recognise it."

"I take it Lee is a muggleborn?" asked Harry.

"No, he's a half-blood" said one.

"But, muggle-_raised_" said the other.

"And his home is a muggle home?" asked Harry.

"Oh, yes," replied one.

"Did you watch television while you were there?" asked Harry.

"The box with the moving pictures?" asked one.

"That was fun," said the other.

"Yes," replied Harry. "This costume is a copy of the one worn by a character that appeared in a movie. I was wondering if you'd seen that movie on the television while you were there."

"Nope", replied one.

"Don't remember it," replied the other.

"But I bet Lee will," said Harry. "Are you guys heading back to your common room, soon?"

"Yep," replied one.

"We have yet to collect our books..."

"...for our next class."

"Alright," said Harry. "Can I hand this costume off to the two of you, to take back to your dorm, show it to Lee, and ask him to charm it to play a piece of orchestral music whenever the person wearing it is walking?"

"We can do that," said one.

"What's the piece of music?" asked the other.

"He'll know," replied Harry. "I'm also going to need it fitted with an auto-sizing charm to make it fit me, if you can do that."

"Easily done," replied one.

"When do you plan on pulling the prank?" asked one.

"As soon as you've managed to charm the costume and can get it back to me, I'll probably pull it that night at dinner," replied Harry.

"Alright Harrikins," said one.

"Leave it to us," said the other.

Harry left the package with them and quickly made his way to the History of Magic classroom. He managed to walk in just behind the last person to enter. He took seat next to Hermione.

"Why are you late?" she asked.

"I told you," he replied. "I needed to talk to someone."

"About what?" she asked.

Harry sighed and said, "I'm pulling a prank on Dumbledore and the Weasley twins are helping me do it."

"Harry! You'll get in trouble!" she quietly exclaimed.

"Yes," he shrugged. "But, trust me, it'll be worth it."

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The Seven sat the Gryffindor table for dinner. Not long after they did, Harry was passed a note from the twins.

_H_

_Showed the costume to Lee and told him what you want done. He told us he knew the required piece of music, once he stopped laughing hysterically. Now we're really curious. He won't tell us what's so funny either._

_We should have the costume ready for you within a couple of days._

_F & G_

As he was refolding the note and sticking it in his pocket, Harry looked down the table. He caught the eye of a dark skinned kid with dreadlocks who was grinning back. The boy threw him a thumbs up gesture.

'Hello Lee,' thought Harry, smiling back.

Seeing the expression on Harry's face, Neville frowned, leaned forward from the other side of the table and asked, "What's going on between you and Lee Jordan?"

Harry also leaned forward and softly said, "Lee is best mates with the twins. He's helping me with a couple of charms I need for my prank on Dumbledore."

"You know you're going to get detention, right?" asked Neville.

With a bit of an evil grin, Harry replied, "No, I don't think so. I think Dumbledore will come out of this willing to give me anything I want so long as I promise not to go dark."

"You're going to pull a massive and very public prank on the Headmaster, and you don't expect to get detention for it?" asked Neville. "This, I have to see."

Harry laughed and said, "I'm just playing to Dumbledore's greatest fear. He's going to freak."

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As promised, a couple of days later, just as Harry was about to meet The Seven in the Entrance Hall on their way to dinner, Lee approached him.

"The costume is ready and in the antechamber off the Entrance Hall. Do you know the one?" he asked.

"Yeah, it's the same one I met with the twins to get the costume to you," replied Harry.

Nodding, Lee grinned and said, "If I may suggest, wait until the Great Hall is full and the meal is served, then make your big dramatic entrance."

"That's the plan," replied Harry. "However, I'm not going to know when that is."

"I've got that covered," said Lee. "I can see the door to the antechamber from where I sit at the Gryffindor table. I've been practicing a Knock Jinx that will allow me to knock on the door from where I sit. That'll be your cue."

Grinning, Harry said, "And the final piece of the puzzle falls into place. Excellent, Mr Jordan! And thank you, very much!"

Harry joined the others and said, "You folks go on in. I need to get ready for my prank on Dumbledore."

"You're still going ahead with it, then?" asked Daphne.

With an emphatic nod, he replied, "Yes. This should prove very interesting."

Daphne gave him a quick peck on the cheek as the others started heading off. She quickly joined them.

Harry paused for a moment before he gave a quick grin and ducked down to the antechamber.

Once inside, he quickly closed and latched the door before turning to see the opened package sitting on the floor. He quickly stripped down to his underwear and hoped no one decided to be adventurous and have a look inside.

Quickly dressing into the costume, he waited until he felt it resize to fit him like a glove. He cast the Cantrip that would make his cloak billow, the one to make his hair lay better, the one that gave him the twinkle in his eyes, and finally the one to make his teeth sparkle when he smiled. He knew it was overkill, but he was _going_ for overkill. Lastly, he stood with the helmet tucked under his left arm, waiting and hoping the knock would come soon.

It did. Right then.

A little surprised at his anticipation, Harry waited a few moments before donning the helmet with the mirrored eye openings, opening the door and marching out. As soon as he started to move the Imperial March broke in.

In the Great Hall, all eyes turned to the double doors as soon as the music started. Harry entered and, without breaking stride, marched with his head held high up between the tables towards the head table.

Out of the corner of his eyes, he noticed quite a few wide grins on some faces. Faces that also turned to those sitting either side of them and whispering. The muggle-raised were telling their table mates just who Harry was dressed as.

Almost perfectly on a break in the music, Harry came to a halt on the open space in front of the head table. He paused a moment to take in the looks of shock on the faces of some professors, and dropped to one knee with his head bowed.

Lifting his head to look in Dumbledore's stunned face, he said through the voice altering charm the twins had placed on it, "I, Darth Vader, _Dark Lord_ of the Sith, present myself to you, _Emperor_ Dumbledore!"

"_Whaaat?_" spluttered Dumbledore, visibly flinching. "_Dark Lord? Emperor?_"

"I said..." began Harry/Vader, before he rose and said, "I was informed, Emperor, you would be conducive to an audience!"

"_Whaaa...?_" spluttered Dumbledore. "I'm _not _an Emperor!"

"_Ha!_ You jest, my Lord," retorted Harry/Vader, before he pointed a finger at Dumbledore. "Who _else_ but an emperor would seat themselves upon a throne made of _gold!_"

"_Nooo...!_" exclaimed Dumbledore. "This is the seat of the Headmaster! I'm not - an _Emperor!?_"

"_Well!_" snarled Harry/Vader imperiously. Playing it right up with as much flourishing as possible, he said, "I _came_ here hoping to forge an alliance between my forces and your own. I believed that, together, we would become _Masters of the Universe_! Clearly, I was mistaken. I am left with no choice but to _crush_ you under the heel of my boot! Good day, Sir!"

Quickly, Harry/Vader spun about, threw his nose – breathing apparatus - into the air, and stormed back out; the Imperial March echoed through the Hall. As he passed the doors, one of the twins banished the doors closed for him.

"_Noooo...!"_ Harry heard the Headmaster call out as the doors closed.

Quickly, he dashed across the Entrance Hall and back into the antechamber. Hurrying, he changed back out of the costume and into his Hogwarts robes before ducking back out of the room.

Harry left the Great Hall amidst riotous laughter and merriment. The head table was all afluster, still.

Quietly, he ducked back into the Hall and, staying crouched, made his way between the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw tables to take seat next to Daphne. No one at the head table appeared to have spotted him come in or find his seat.

Hermione, trying to stifle her laughter, had tears in her eyes and was red in the face. She couldn't even look at Harry.

Daphne looked at him with her eyes twinkling and said, "I think you broke the Headmaster."

"Why, what happened?" asked Harry trying to act innocent.

Neville replied, "Madam Pomfrey had to escort him from the Hall out the teacher's door. I think she was taking him back to his office. He looked pretty shaken up."

Harry looked up at the head table and noticed Professor Flitwick was looking at him and grinning like a loon. Professor Snape was sitting with his head down and a slight smirk was on his face he was trying to hide.

Professor McGonagall was sitting with her elbows on the table and her hands covering her face. The slight jiggling of her shoulders informed anyone paying attention she was trying hard not to laugh aloud.

As the Hall calmed back down and returned to their meals a couple of Gryffindors whispered to Harry and the others, "Great prank, Harry!"

At the end of the meal Professor Flitwick came over and, still grinning, said, "That was very well done, Mister Potter. Maybe now the Headmaster will get rid of that infernal chair he favours so much. Oh, and five points to Ravenclaw for a prank really well done that caused no actual harm and could not be called bullying."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry warmly replied.

Chuckling, the diminutive professor turned away and said, "Darth Vader - Dark Lord of the Sith!" And burst into full laughter again.

"Hmm," said Harry, turning back to his friends. "I think Professor Flitwick is a closet Sci-Fi fan."

"Sci-Fi?" asked Tracey, grinning but clearly puzzled.

"Short for science fiction," replied Hermione. "It's a muggle thing."

"Oh," replied Tracey, clearly still not understanding. "If you say so."

The twins and Lee approached next.

"Bloody marvellous, old chap!" said one.

"Yes, indeed!" said the other.

"That was even better than I thought it would be," said Lee, grinning away.

When Harry was finally able to get away from all his new well-wishers and those who wanted to congratulate him, he finally managed to return to the Ravenclaw common room with the package tucked safely under his arm.

He underwent another round of congratulatory remarks before he was finally able to head to his dorm and put the package away.

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-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next evening Harry found himself summoned to the Headmaster's office. Professor Flitwick once more accompanied him, along with Daphne.

As they approached the gargoyle, Professor Flitwick gave the password and the gargoyle leapt out of their path. The stairs were already revolving upwards. Both Daphne and Harry donned their plain glasses as the stairs ascended.

The three entered the office to find Dumbledore behind his desk with Snape standing brooding in the corner.

"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore jovially, "So good of you to come."

"What is this about, Headmaster?" asked Harry in a no-nonsense tone.

"I wanted to talk to you about that little prank you pulled at dinner last night," replied Dumbledore. "Won't you please take a seat?"

Harry, seeing only one chair present, indicated for Daphne to sit while he stood just behind her and off to the side.

"Clearly, I cannot, Sir," replied Harry. "As with the last time we attended, there is a distinct lack of seating available."

Snape started to say something but apparently thought better of it. He shut his mouth with an almost audible snap of his teeth.

Dumbledore almost distractedly waved his wand and a second seat appeared alongside Daphne's matching her own.

Without a word, Harry sat. Then he looked back at Dumbledore waiting for the man to say something.

After a quiet few minutes that stretched long enough to be uncomfortable, Dumbledore finally said, "That was a masterful prank you pulled last night, Harry."

"Why, thank you, Albus," replied Harry. "The school populace seemed to think so."

With a frown, Dumbledore said, "Its Headmaster Dumbledore, Harry."

Right back, Harry calmly replied, "Its Mister Potter, Albus. I figured if you wanted to be _overly_ familiar with the use of _my_ given name you wouldn't be upset if I used _yours_ in the same manner. Did we not have this discussion the last time you summoned me?"

Harry could see Snape sitting in the corner, itching to say his piece and scowling away.

Frowning for a few moments, Dumbledore seemed to collapse a little into himself. "Mister Potter, I was hoping we could restart our acquaintance and become - closer - now that the difficulties of your living with your muggle relatives is concluded."

"The _legalities_ surrounding me being unlawfully placed with the Dursleys may be concluded, Headmaster," said Harry. "But, the psychological and physical impact of their treatment of me has a _long_ way to go before I would even _dream_ of considering it - as you put it - concluded. The physical damage to my body may be almost repaired, and I may consider that done and dusted before too much longer, but the psychological damage?" He sighed, "I suspect that is going to take many, many years - if ever - for me to come to full terms with."

"Can't you see beyond that, Harry?" begged Dumbledore. "Everyone should be given a second chance."

"A second chance to kill me, you mean Albus?" asked Harry. "The Dursleys had ten _years_ to show remorse and change their ways. They failed every opportunity given to them. And only a naïve fool would think them capable of changing their ways after so long."

"I meant me, Harry," said Dumbledore. "I admit it was a grave mistake, on my part, to place you with the Dursleys. But you were safe from the magical world there. My intentions were good and just."

Thinking a moment, Harry said, "Aldous Huxley, a novelist from earlier this century once said, 'Hell isn't merely paved with good intentions; it's walled and roofed with them. Yes, and furnished too'.

"And Albert Camus, a French Philosopher, said, 'The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding'.

"You lacked properly understanding what my relatives were capable of. It was a mistake that would have _killed_ me if not for my bouts of accidental magic in self-healing," replied Harry. "There were quite a few times that, had I not been born a wizard, _should_ have killed me.

"No, your mistakes - multiple - were not that you just placed me with the Dursleys when you had no right to do so; nor understood how they would react to me for my very presence. No, your other mistakes were - not regularly coming and checking up on me, not having my placement properly registered as you were legally bound to do, and not teaching me my proper place in the wizarding world.

"Then there's the ones I know you did but have not been pursued through the courts over; and _only_ because I see no benefit from it _for myself_. There clearly must be an owl-redirection or blockage ward placed on either me or on Privett Drive, and it can only be _you_ who put it there; that's illegal. Included in that, you blocked my mail from Gringotts; that's a breach of the Treaty. You never took me in for my _mandatory_ inoculations against wizarding diseases, such as Dragon Pox, Scrofungulus, and Vanishing Sickness; that's recognised as child abuse in wizarding Britain, _each case_. And, finally, you currently have in your possession property that rightfully belongs to House Potter you were _obliged_ to return to me on the passing of my father, and have not; that's theft."

Leaning forward, Harry said, "You need to atone and show true remorse for _all_ those matters, Albus; plus others I didn't mention and of which I know you're _fully_ aware. And you can make a good start by returning my property to me _without_ further prompting. Until you recognise and publicly accept your crimes against me - and _atone_ for them - you have no right to ask for forgiveness for them. You will not have deserved it.

"And, as I mentioned in our previous meeting, I'll also need a full accounting from you as to why you did the things you did. And none of that sidestepping of the question you employed in the courts, either. You cannot expect me to consider forgiveness if you're not willing to come clean. You can start with why you took a personal - some might say _unhealthy_ - interest in me in particular; when there were a great many orphans created by Voldemort and his Death Eaters you otherwise ignored.

"You want my forgiveness, Albus? _Earn_ it!"

Harry then sat back and waited.

After a few moments, Dumbledore sighed and with a note of sadness said, "You are, of course, correct, Harry. You have given me a lot to think about; and I shall be up at nights doing just that. You have sacrificed a lot for the wizarding world."

"I have sacrificed nothing, Albus. Everything was _stolen_ from me."

With a second sigh, the old man said, "Thank you for your time, Harry."

Recognising the dismissal, Harry rose and assisted Daphne to her feet. " Take down that mail redirection ward _immediately_, Albus; _tonight_. Otherwise, have a good evening, Headmaster," he said, as he led Daphne and Professor Flitwick from the room.

After the door closed behind them, Snape said, "The brat might be arrogant, but he's right, you know."

"I know," said Dumbledore sadly. "However, there are a great many things he is not yet ready to hear."

"And, if you leave out even one thing and he knows of it, he'll never trust you again," said Snape.

Nodding, Dumbledore said, "Thank you, Severus." Effectively dismissing the Potions Master.

Out in the hallway beyond the gargoyle Professor Flitwick walked with the two back towards the main part of the castle. Daphne had her hand firmly in Harry's elbow and was almost hard up alongside him.

The Professor said to Harry, "You've also given me a lot to think about, Mister Potter."

"Yes, Professor, I suspected as much," replied Harry.

"May I discuss with other members of staff what you discussed with the Headmaster tonight?" asked the Professor.

"If you wish, Professor," replied Harry. "Nothing I said you should construe as a secret."

"Thank you, Mister Potter," said the half-goblin just as they arrived back at the grand staircase. "I take it you're safe to find your own ways back to your common rooms from here?"

"Yes; thank you, Professor," replied Harry while Daphne nodded in agreement.

"Then I shall bid you good night," he said, giving a short bow before leaving.

"It's still quite early," said Daphne. "I suspect the others will be in the library. Shall we see if they're there?"

Harry nodded and said, "Sounds like a good idea to me."

As they walked towards the library, Daphne suddenly ducked to the side of the hallway dragging Harry with her. She opened a door, dragging Harry in behind her. It looked like a disused classroom.

As soon as Harry regained his balance from almost being dragged off his feet, Daphne spun him towards her, grabbed each side of his head, and planted a long kiss on his lips.

When she let him go, Harry staggered back half a step and looked back at her in shock. "What was _that_ for?"

"_That_, Harry, was for both keeping yourself calm and speaking so eloquently back there in the Headmaster's office," she replied. "You make me so _proud_ to be your betrothed."

Quite befuddled, it took Harry a few moments to respond. "I - guess I need to do that more often, then," he stammered.

"Definitely," she replied with a smile.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	22. Picnic

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Two - Picnic**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Professor McGonagall had just finished marking the assignments of her Seventh Year NEWTS students when her wards alerted her to someone at her office door.

She set the marked assignments aside and went to the door. Opening it, she saw Professor Flitwick standing on the other side holding his pensieve tucked under his arm.

"Minerva," he said. "Do you have a few minutes?"

Standing aside, she let the diminutive professor in and, as she closed the door, asked, "I take it this has to do with Mister Potter's interview with the Headmaster?"

"Indeed," said Professor Flitwick. "The interview was quite enlightening. I also have Mister Potter's permission to share with you what happened."

"Will this be a one or two shot of Old Ogden's Finest memory?" she asked.

With a smile, he replied, "Only one, I think. But, don't put the bottle away."

With a smile of her own, Professor McGonagall conjured a plinth on which Professor Flitwick could place the pensieve. As she walked to her office desk and drew forth an opened bottle of Old Ogden's and a couple of clean short tumblers, Professor Flitwick drew the memory of the interview from his temple, dropping it into the pensieve.

After the two professors returned from their trip inside the pensieve, Professor McGonagall poured a shot of the whiskey into each glass, passed one to Professor Flitwick and kept the other for herself.

Once they'd each taken a couple sips, she looked at Professor Flitwick and said, "He was quite calm and - logical - in the way he laid it all out; wasn't he, Filius?"

Nodding, the Professor replied, "He is definitely his mother's son."

With a smile, Professor McGonagall said, "And last night was purely his father's influence."

Chuckling, the Charms Professor asked, "Have you noticed Albus's - throne - has disappeared?"

With a grin, Professor McGonagall replied, "It was the first thing I noticed when I went down for breakfast, this morning."

Both were lost in their thoughts for a minute before Professor Flitwick said, "His vocabulary is quite advanced for someone his age."

"I noticed," she mused. Hesitating a moment, she said, "I've also noticed he has a very quick grasp of the concepts of transfiguration. And that, once he has learnt the proper wand movements and incantation for a spell, he never forgets it or gets it wrong again."

"He's the same with Charms," he replied. "I've also noticed he appears quite bored with the material. And his assignments are quite brilliant."

"As are they with his transfiguration assignments," she replied.

"Furthermore," he said. "His Occlumency shields are quite advanced. I tested him once in class to see why he appeared to be so bored with the work. It was like hitting a blank wall. And he just smirked at me, for my attempt."

"_Filius!_" exclaimed the tall Professor. "You know better than that!"

"I know," he replied. "But I wanted to see if he has the gift I think he has. Everything I've seen points to it."

"And what would that be?" she asked.

"A perfect recall memory," replied the Professor. "I believe it's known as an eidetic memory."

"Perfect recall?" she asked.

"Yes," he nodded. "He remembers _everything!_ He's able to quote, with barely a thought, often obscure quotes from famous muggles; he can read through a book flipping a page every couple of seconds, and instantly recall everything he read; once something is learned, it's _permanently_ learned. He re-entered the wizarding world when he received his Hogwarts letter probably knowing nothing, and yet, knows the traditions and practices of the wizarding world almost inside out - consider what he did to Severus that morning soon after he rejoined us; and he _never_ misses a thing."

Sitting back at her desk, Professor McGonagall thought a fair bit about what she'd just been told. "It would explain a lot, wouldn't it? The potential to learn must be extraordinary."

"The structured learning environment of Hogwarts is holding him back, Minerva," he quietly said.

"Yes," she grudgingly replied. "However, he has found friends here. He's very close to them. Placing him in an advanced learning curriculum will rob him of that."

"Ah, yes," replied Professor Flitwick. "The group the other students have begun to call 'The Seven'. Did you also notice that his friends could all be considered within the highest percentiles, academically, for their year group?"

Thinking, Professor McGonagall said, "Daphne Greengrass, his betrothed; Tracey Davis; Neville Longbottom; Hermione Granger; Susan Bones and Hannah Abbott. Yes, all seven of them would be the top students in their year group. The only ones who may challenge them are Padma Patil, Su Li, Blaise Zabini and Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Exactly!" said Professor Flitwick. "Mister Potter achieves without trying, but Miss Granger pushes to achieve. I think she's the one who pushes the others in trying to keep up with Mister Potter. Miss Greengrass is also brilliant, but isn't one to push others. The other four just want to keep up.

"However, Pomona tells me Mister Longbottom is a prodigy when it comes to Herbology. She has plans for that boy. And though Mister Potter appears to do well in that subject, you can see he is not fond of it."

"Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass also have that extracurricular etiquette club of theirs, do they not?" she asked.

"Oh, yes," exclaimed Professor Flitwick. "I attended the session they held on Sunday under an Invisibility Charm. The two of them were brilliant. They calmly and in detail explained the role of the Houses in our society, together with some of the traditions and special etiquette involved. They never once talked down to them and explained it all in terms the muggleborns would understand. Those who attended lapped it all up.

"Both Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass will make excellent educators if they decide that's the career choice they want to pursue. I can also see their club curriculum easily becoming a recognised course of study. It dovetails nicely with Muggle Studies. However, that is something for the future."

"Indeed," said Professor McGonagall. "Albus told me wizarding traditions and etiquette used to be an approved course years ago. However, the pureblood factions saw to it that the course was cancelled as they felt it didn't benefit them. It was well before my time."

"Do we inform the rest of the staff of what we believe to be Mister Potter's unique gift?" asked Professor Flitwick.

Thinking for a bit, Professor McGonagall shook her head and replied, "I think not. As you are his Head of House you should probably talk to him about it first; as it sounds as if he's quite aware of it, already. That he hasn't made it public knowledge, as far as I know, is quite telling."

Nodding in agreement Professor Flitwick began to pack up his portable pensieve. Once he was finished, he bid his friend a good night and made his way back to his own quarters.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On Thursday morning, Harry was packing up from his Charms class when Professor Flitwick asked him to remain behind. Hermione and Neville said they'd let the others know and be in the library.

Walking towards the Professor's stack of books he used to stand on at his podium, Harry asked, "Yes, Professor?"

The Professor waited until the last student left before using his wand to close the classroom door.

"Take a seat, Mister Potter," the Professor said.

Harry sat at one of the nearest benches and waited.

"I know you're one who appreciates honesty and straight-forwardness, Mister Potter," said the half-goblin. "So, I'll ask you straight."

Harry just sat there wondering what the Professor was on about.

"Mister Potter, do you have an eidetic memory?" asked the Professor in a normal voice.

Harry was quite startled by the question for a moment before his shoulders slumped forward.

Instead of answering he sighed and asked, "How did you find out, Professor?"

The Professor then explained his reasonings, just as he'd explained them to Professor McGonagall a couple nights previously.

"And the only thing that makes a lick of sense of those impossible actions is that you've an eidetic memory," replied the Professor, winding up.

With a sigh, Harry nodded. "Yeah, it does, doesn't it?"

Sitting up a little straighter he said, "It's not something I want spread around, Professor. When I was in muggle primary school the teachers used to give me crap marks because my homework or test results weren't perfect when they thought, considering my memory, they should be."

"Only Professor McGonagall and myself know of this, Mister Potter," replied the Professor. "We've agreed to keep it between us unless you stated otherwise."

"Then, please keep it between the two of you," said Harry.

With a slight bow, Professor Flitwick replied, "As you wish, Mister Potter. However, I'd be honoured if you allowed me to recommend to you some very worthwhile books on various charms I believe you may find useful."

Seeing the confused look on Harry's face, the professor grinned and said, "Come now, Mister Potter. I'm very much aware that the current course load is nothing more than a boring doddle for you. I believe you will benefit from reading and assimilating a very wide range of various Charms.

"I also believe you'll find Professor McGonagall may feel the same way and have some books on advanced transfiguration and conjuration for you to read. A mind like yours needs to properly fed and nurtured.

"And, finally, that bout of accidental magic you suffered from the night of the Sorting shows us that you are quite the powerful young wizard. I believe you can handle what we throw at you."

"Besides, reading all these extra books," mused Harry. "You're not going to test me on them, are you?"

"Test your knowledge, you mean?" asked the Professor.

Harry nodded.

"I believe that would be a waste of time, Mister Potter," said the Professor. "No, the testing I'll be doing will be more along practical lines. It will also have the added benefit of gauging just how powerful a young wizard you actually are. And that's something that incredible memory of yours will have no impact upon."

"Magic is like a muscle; it needs to be constantly exercised," said Harry.

"Precisely, Mister Potter; precisely."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Walking into the library, Harry headed directly to the normal table around which the group normally sat. The others were waiting for him.

"What did Professor Flitwick want, Harry?" asked Hermione.

With a shrug, he replied, "He's noticed how I'm able to grasp the concept of Charms pretty quickly and wanted to know if I'd be interested in reading more books on the subject. He's going to get me some to read for a while, and then he's going to give me practical tests that cover them.

"By the sounds of it, he's also been speaking with Professor McGonagall and she's going to be doing the same with Transfiguration and Conjuration."

"Conjuration?" she asked. "I didn't think we made a start on that until Fourth Year."

"Apparently, they remember that burst of accidental magic I had on the night of the Sorting and want to see just how powerful I actually am. High level Charms, Transfiguration and Conjuration will help. It has a lot to do with the sort of memory I have."

"They know?" asked Daphne quietly.

"Either Professor Flitwick or Professor McGonagall figured it out individually or together," replied Harry. "Professor Flitwick said they're not going to share the secret with anyone else since I don't want it bandied about. I'll just have to trust them not to do so."

Daphne nodded and said, "This could actually be a good thing. I've noticed you've been quite bored with the course work. Plus, your charms and transfiguration work are impressive. You easily cast the strongest and most powerful Lumos of those in our year, at least; if that's any indication."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

By the following weekend Harry had managed to convince the twins to tell him how to find the kitchens. And, on the Friday afternoon after class and after returning to the dorm for a quick shower, he visited asking if it was possible for the house elves to prepare a picnic basket for the Sunday.

The elves happily agreed and said they would have everything in place for them down by the lake next to the 'big rock'.

Pleased with himself, Harry met with the others once more in the library.

"Where did you head off to in a rush from the greenhouses?" asked Daphne.

"Shower," replied Harry. "I swear, dragon dung seeps into the skin. It stinks enough."

Neville smiled and said, "It doesn't, actually; sink into the skin, that is. But it _is_ hard to wash off."

"I swear, Neville," said Harry. "Herbology seems to be all about repotting, repotting and repotting some more."

Neville chuckled and said, "Repotting is, of course, an important part in the growing of magical plants under controlled conditions. However, we'll soon be moving on to caring for the plants in other ways."

"I find it _fascinating_ how Potions and Herbology are so closely linked," said Hermione. "I think there should be more on how the ingredients we're growing in the greenhouses will become potions ingredients in the Potions Lab."

"We'll be covering that soon in Herbology," replied Neville. "I doubt Professor Snape will pay it any heed. He's just too fixated on _making_ the potions rather than explaining about the potions and their ingredients, how they were developed, that sort of thing."

Susan piped in with a pretty bad impression of Snape, "Instructions are on the board. You have one hour. Begin!"

That elicited chuckles around the table.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the Sunday, Harry invited Daphne down to the lake for a walk.

"A _walk_, Potter?" she asked, one eyebrow lifted slightly.

"I love how you can do that with your eyebrow," smiled Harry, before answering her question. "Yes, I thought we could spend some time together outside before the first frosts turn to permanent ice.

"I thought we could take a walk along the bank of the lake, just the two of us, and just talk of inconsequential things."

"I think that would be a fine idea," she replied. "However, it is still a little chilly out. What say we meet in the Entrance Hall in fifteen minutes with our cloaks?"

Harry nodded, gave her a quick peck on the cheek and said, "See you in fifteen, then." He quickly dashed up to the Ravenclaw Tower.

Fifteen minutes later, on the dot, he was back down in the Entrance Hall and waiting.

A few minutes later, Daphne and Tracey walked up the stairs from the dungeons. Tracey whispered something into Daphne's ear, to which the young witch replied, and then she walked off towards the library with a smirk.

Harry offered his elbow to his betrothed and, together, they walked outside into the cool air of late morning.

They had been walking in silence for a few minutes when Daphne said, "I had begun to despair for you, of late."

Surprised, Harry asked, "Why?"

"Well, we've been here together for a few weeks now, and you've not shown me any romance," she replied with a small smirk.

"Daphne, I'm _eleven_!" exclaimed Harry. "At my age boys generally tend to think of girls as '_icky_'."

"I know," she laughed. "However, the magic of the betrothal contract changes things like that."

"Huh?" he asked.

"Eloquent, Potter," she said. "What I mean is that the magic of the betrothal contract will bring us closer together, it makes us feel an attraction towards one another; of the romantic kind."

"I... know that it will bring us closer together," said Harry. "But, romantically?"

"What did you think 'bringing us closer together' meant?" Turning to look at him for a few moments, Daphne said, "I keep forgetting you were raised by muggles and were ignorant of our ways. What makes it more confusing is that you worked very quickly to make yourself as knowledgeable as rapidly as you could, reading all those books. But, there's a great deal those books don't cover."

"Hmm..." replied Harry with a verbal nod.

"A lot of what you know about the wizarding world and customs is actually not something a lot of wizards and witches know," she explained. "However, there are things you apparently don't know that every witch and wizard learns as they grow up, well before they reach Hogwarts."

"Like?" he asked, genuinely curious.

"Such as, do you know who Rabbity Babbity is?" she asked.

"Errr - no; sorry," he replied.

"A character out of a children's bedtime story," she said. "Another, is that you don't carry yourself - purport yourself - as the Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House should."

"I don't want to put on airs and graces, Daphne," he gently replied. "Especially, around our friends. It's just not who I am. Plus, Malfoy does it; and it irritates me."

"I know," she softly replied. "But, getting back to my point, wizarding children grow up knowing there are very strong magics around contracts; just as there are around magical vows and oaths. We're raised knowing not be involved in one until our majorities."

"Alright, I can understand that," mused Harry. "So, you're saying there are pretty powerful magics relating to our betrothal contract."

"Yes," she replied. "And that it was signed in blood makes it even more magically powerful. It invokes blood magic."

"Blood magic?" asked Harry. "I'm sorry, but I've not heard of such other than blood wards. I don't think we study it here, at Hogwarts."

"We don't," she said. "Blood magics, these days, are only legally allowed to be used in contracts. There's even a special quill used, called a blood quill, that's used to sign such contracts. They're heavily regulated."

"Alright, that makes sense. Of course, I know of blood quills already..." said Harry. "I take it that, since our betrothal contract was signed in blood, it's making use of these blood magics. And that makes the magic relating to the contract that much more powerful?"

"Yes," she said. "Part of that is what makes the contract unbreakable. However, the reason I've raised this with you, is that we can find no history where a betrothal contract has ever been signed in blood before. At least, since the Ministry has kept record of these things."

"Cygnus has been looking into this?" he asked.

"He has," she replied. "What I'm trying to tell you is that the magic of betrothal contracts will bring us closer together. It'll make us more - compatible with one another. That the betrothal contract is signed in blood..."

"You don't know what affect that is going to have on us," finished Harry. "Other than it will probably make the magic stronger and, therefore, bring us closer together."

"Exactly," she sighed leaning her head on his shoulder as they walked, glad to see he had grasped what she was trying to say.

"You're worried it will change who we are," he said.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Because I fear I may become someone that will be - unwanted - unloved - by my family and friends in the process of becoming a better match for you."

Thinking a bit, Harry asked, "Can I let you in on a little not-so-secret secret?"

"Yes," she replied, curious.

"It's already changed us quite a bit."

Frowning, she asked, "What do you mean?"

"Look at how we are now. Look at how we interact with each other," he replied. "Do you realise it's only been a month since we first met?"

"I..." she stuttered in surprise.

"Think back to the afternoon, only a day later after meeting me for the first time, when I presented you with that ring that adorns your finger," he said. "Think about how it made you feel."

Daphne walked in a bit of wonder.

"Can you perceive your life without me?" he asked.

A little shocked, she replied, "No."

"And that is what I mean," he said.

After a few moments, she sighed in recognition and said, "I hadn't noticed."

"Neither had _I_ until you started talking about the magic of 'normal' betrothal contracts," he replied. "But, do you feel as if you're drifting apart from your family and friends?"

"No," she sighed.

"Good," he stated firmly. "If you ever feel that is the case, then it shall be _my_ fault. And I would do all in my power to rectify the situation."

Daphne stopped, spun Harry towards herself and planted a powerful kiss on his lips, before spinning him back and egging him forward.

Quite stunned, he asked, "I just did something really good again, didn't I?"

"Yes, Mister Potter; you did," she replied.

After a short while of walking and then turning back towards the rock, Harry guided Daphne to a spot just alongside it. As he stood there, a picnic basket magically appeared with a thick blanket folded neatly over it.

Looking down at what was now next to Harry's feet, Daphne asked, "Where'd that come from?"

"I asked the elves a couple days ago if they wouldn't mind preparing a picnic lunch for us if we went for a walk together on Sunday," replied Harry. "They were happy to do it."

Very soon thereafter, Harry had the blanket spread out upon the grass and had moved the picnic basket onto it.

Helping Daphne down to a sitting position, he said, "I have no idea what they've prepared for us, so I have no idea if they've packed your favourite foods or not."

While Daphne was opening the top of the picnic basket and removing containers, Harry was sitting down opposite.

From his side, Harry removed a couple of plates, two sets of cutlery, and a pair of cups. Then he removed a sealed jug of chilled orange juice. He continued to watch as Daphne was concentrating on opening containers. The smells of food wafting out smelled delicious.

Soon, both of them were enjoying quite the picnic feast.

"This was a good idea, Harry," she finally said, between bites.

"Thank you," he simply replied. "I thought it would be nice for us to share a private meal together, away from the other five. This was the idea I came up with."

After they spent some time eating in companionable silence, Harry said, "From what I read about the betrothal contract, I take it your birthday was not long before mine. However, I have no idea when it actually is."

"The twenty-ninth of June," she replied. "And, don't worry about the others. Hermione has now written up a calendar with all the important dates within. That includes everyone's birthday."

"Good," said Harry, with a sigh in relief. "I'd hate to think we've missed anyone else's."

They sat there for a while longer before Daphne sat up straighter and said, "Well, we need to pack this lot up and return it to the kitchens. We have a club meeting for which to prepare."

With a nod and sigh, Harry helped pack things up. The last was folding the blanket.

While he carried the basket, Daphne carried the rug. As had become their norm, she tucked her hand into his elbow as they walked.

Entering the castle she allowed him to lead her down the stairs into the first level of the dungeon.

"Ummm - Harry?" she asked.

"Mmmm?" he asked back.

"You do know where we're going, right?" she asked.

"Oh!" he replied. "I forgot to tell you I know where the kitchens are, and how to get in."

"And that's where we're going now?" she asked.

"It is," he replied.

Soon Harry led her into a hallway with a large painting of a bowl of fruit. With a grin, he reached up and tickled the pear at the forefront in the bowl.

The pear gave a giggle and shivered before turning into a pear-shaped doorknob. Harry grasped the knob, gave it a turn, and pulled the painting away from the wall.

With the hidden door now wide open, Harry led his betrothed into one of the areas of the castle very few students ever got to see; the massive kitchens.

Not too far inside, was a cleared table. Harry reached it and carefully placed the basket on top of it.

Almost immediately, he was seen by the elves and one of them popped into sight right in front.

"Was your picky-nick satisfactory, young master?" the elf asked.

"It was wonderful, thank you," replied Harry. "We enjoyed it very much."

"Master is kind!" said the elf. A quick snap of it's fingers and the basket and blanket were gone. "Would young master likes anything else?"

"No; thank you, though," replied Harry. "We have to get ready for a club meeting."

"Please comes back and visits us, anytime," said the elf.

"We will, thank you," said Daphne.

Back out in the hallway, she said, "Thank you for showing me that, Harry."

With a small shrug and his lop-sided grin, he said, "Well, the twins - that is, the Weasley twins - showed me a few days ago."

"I know which twins you meant, Harry," she mock-scoffed at him.

"Of course you do," he said. "Anyway, they said it's not a secret that should be kept. Everyone with a penchant for a between-meal or late night snack should be given the secret of the kitchen."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	23. Come and Go

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Three – Come and Go**

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-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After finding the others finishing up their own lunch at the Hufflepuff table, Harry said he and Daphne were heading to the club meeting room to make sure things would be ready for later that afternoon.

"Do you mind if I tag along?" asked Hermione.

"Not at all," replied Harry. "And we don't consider it tagging along, either. You're one of us; our group, that is; we like having you a part of us."

After a few moments she softly replied, "Thank you, Harry."

"You're welcome," he simply replied. "By the way, I'm glad to see that Charm for your hair is working well for you. It looks even better than when I cast it upon you."

"Oh," she said a bit more chipper. "I taught it to the girls in my dorm. We do it for each other now. Plus, it's also because I'm now getting that special shampoo and conditioner that Tracey recommended. And, the girls in the dorm all told me to tell you, 'thank you', when it came up again. So, thank you."

With a chuckle, he replied, "Then tell them from me that they're welcome."

The walk up to the third floor was finished in companionable silence.

Reaching the right room, after Harry gave the password, 'Muggletum', they entered.

Harry had with him a couple of sheets of parchment with the list of known magical Houses down to the recognised Houses as they appeared on the large board at the back of the meeting room. He'd left the names of the Heads and Heirs from the lists.

Daphne went into the office and returned with their new ledger on which they'd had the attendees from the first meeting enter their names. There was a lot of room for newer members below.

Harry grabbed one of the desks at the rear of the U-shape and spun it around. Pulling a seat around he sat and placed his list upon it, before drawing out quill and ink. Looking at the list on the wall he didn't notice anything different from the previous week.

Taking care, he then wrote down the names on the vacant spaces for the Heads and Heirs for each House. It amused him when he wrote his own name as Head of House Potter, and again as Heir for House Black with a '(P)' after it for 'presumptive'. Of course, also onto the list went the names for Daphne, Neville, Susan and Hannah. Others from their year cohort were Theodore Nott, Draco Malfoy, Millicent Bulstrode and Ernie MacMillan. Other years that Harry recognised included Cedric Diggory, Marcus Flint, Charlus Warrington, Mungo Bole and Oliver Wood.

Once he was finished, Harry stood, spun the desk and chair back around, and took the list to the front. Offering it to Daphne, he said, "Ever noticed just how many of the Heirs of all these Houses are currently at Hogwarts; especially in our year group?"

"I think you'll find it's because a lot of people went into hiding the last couple of years of Voldemort's reign," said Hermione.

"What would that have to do with it?" asked Daphne.

"Well," blushed Hermione, "They were in hiding and they had nothing better to do - so - they - you know!"

"Oh!" said Daphne, suddenly in understanding. "Oh, my!" she exclaimed before suddenly blushing.

Then the two girls broke into laughter.

Frowning at them, Harry asked, "What?"

"Harry," blushed Daphne again. "They were in hiding, and they had nothing else to do, so they - practiced making babies! I guess, as they wouldn't have had access to the right potions, some of that practice wasn't so much - practice!"

And both girls broke into laughter again.

"Ah!" said Harry, understanding. "You mean to imply they had sex a lot."

"Harry!" both girls squealed.

"You don't have to say it like that!" said Hermione.

"Why not?" asked Harry. "It's completely understandable, after all."

After a few moments to let that sink in, he said, "Plus, many back then didn't have heirs of their own. For the Great Houses to ensure the continuation of their lines, in case Riddle and his Death Eaters killed them, they wanted to ensure they had heirs. I dare say many of those heirs would have also been homed, during that time, in other houses with other families."

"I..." said Daphne. "That actually makes a lot of sense."

"Of course, it does," replied Harry with a shrug. "On top of that you have the whole thing where nature abhors a vacuum. I could almost see where there was a - magical imperative - where heirs were born because magic, itself, wanted to ensure the continuation of the lines.

"Then, after Riddle was destroyed, many couples were driven to reproduce. There were so many killed during the war that repopulation of the magical species was a priority. I bet you'll find there was a baby boom, as the muggles call it, starting from within a year after October 1981. And, starting with next year's cohort, each Hogwarts Year is going to increase in size for a while."

While he was talking, Harry took the parchment with the list of Houses, Heads and Heirs on it, and made over two dozen copies of it.

"That.. explains a lot," said Daphne.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"It explains why there's so many kids running around Diagon Alley these days," replied Daphne. "And, by that, I mean kids younger than us. Even Mother and Father have commented on it."

"It happened all throughout history," said Harry. "After the end of the second world war, there was what the muggles call a baby boom. Even the government got in on the act and encouraged it. They used to say, 'One for him, one for her, and one for Queen and country'. So, they were encouraging new families to have at least three children per couple.

"So many kids were born they had to, first, build new hospitals with large maternity wards; then new schools for the number of kids to be schooled within; then new secondary schools. In later years, these children became known as the 'boomers'.

"Starting twenty years later, on the cusp of the 1970s, it happened again as the children of the first boom married and had children of their own. Plus, as they were children in many cases of above average-sized families, they had large families, too.

"The next generation, the children of the children of the original boom, are all of age to marry right now. That means we can expect an increased growth in population of the muggle world starting from about now."

Hermione piped up and said, "My parents had me in their thirties. That's considered a few years after the norm for muggles. And my parents are children of children born during the war; a few years before the boomers. The collective term for children like me is 'saddler'. That is, I was born during a period between the booms when population growth was quite minimal."

"I expect that's why there's not so many muggleborns coming through Hogwarts, at the moment," said Harry. "A decade ago was a quiet period for - making babies - in the muggle world."

"I need to write this down," said Daphne quite bemused. "Mother's been looking into why there's not so many muggleborns coming through of late. It's part of her research she's doing on behalf of the Ministry and Saint Mungo's. I think this would be considered a 'breakthrough' in her research."

"Alright," said Harry. "We've little to do until the club starts. How about Hermione and I give you a hand writing all this down so you can send it to your Mum?"

"Yes. Please," said Daphne, a little relieved. "I doubt I could properly explain it."

"In the letter I have to write to my parents, anyway," said Hermione, "I'll see if I can ask them to get the summary of records of children's births over the past half a century from the United Kingdom General Registrar Office. They have the records for all births, deaths and marriages as far back as the mid 1800s. It will show the numbers in exact detail."

"The muggles record all that?" asked Daphne.

"Yes," replied Hermione. "From those, together with the numbers they record from emigration and immigration, they have the basis for planning government services into the future. They know how many new homes need to be built; roads and services installed for those new homes; and planning for new hospitals, schools, police stations, fire stations, et cetera. And that's only the beginning of it.

"Once you get into the numbers we're talking about, they can pretty accurately determine how much of each thing they're going to need, and in what areas, for decades to come. Unless, of course, something happens that upsets it, such as a major war, a market crash, or similar."

"Wow!" said Daphne. "I doubt we magicals do anything like that."

"That wouldn't be surprising," said Harry. "I doubt there's a sufficiently large enough number of wizards and witches in Britain to make it worthwhile, yet."

The three then sat down with Harry and Hermione writing down all the things they knew around population growth in muggle Britain over the past half-century. Hermione also used the opportunity to write the letter to her parents with her request.

As she finished, Harry knew he needed Hedwig. She arrived a minute or two later.

"That's quite eerie how she does that," said Hermione.

"Hedwig is Harry's bonded familiar," replied Daphne. "She comes when she knows her bonded has need of her. It's part of the magic of the familiar bond. Harry called to her over their bond link; so, she came."

"On top of that, I also used a rarely performed bonding ritual that allows Hedwig to draw on some of my magic," said Harry. "A normal post owl has a form of magic that allows them to find whomever their package is addressed to. Even if that person is hidden. Plus, certain magics can also be employed to make them deliver only at certain times, such as the magic here at Hogwarts which tells them to deliver as breakfast winds up for the day.

"Because I wanted Hedwig to be better than just that, her bond to me allows her to draw on my magic to perform certain additional feats. For example, she's a lot faster than a normal owl. I don't know how fast, but I'd put it up there with the speed of a falcon. The special harness she wears also protects her from someone wanting to intercept her, to steal mail.

"And the magic also supplies her with a greater than normal intelligence and a longer life span. She knows when someone or something is trying to intercept her, and her increased intelligence aids her in avoiding that sort of thing. For example, if someone tries to set another mail redirection ward against me, she can ignore it if she knows I want her to."

"You think someone would try that sort of thing?" asked Hermione.

"I know they already have, Hermione," he replied. "I know there had to be a mail redirection or refusal ward against post owls on Privett Drive because I never received one item of mail from the wizarding world until I received my Hogwarts letter. The goblins are pretty snarky about it as they were trying to get mail through to me regarding the Potter accounts, and the owls couldn't get through.

"They were the ones who recommended to me to purchase my own owl and to fit it with a Head of House harness. It was my idea to take it to the next step and perform the bonding ritual. I'm very happy with the result."

"Do you think I should get one?" she asked.

Thinking for a bit, Harry sat back considered the various options.

"I'm thinking of a cat," said Daphne. "My parents didn't push it, but I've been thinking of getting a cat for a while now. I don't know what advantages it will have if I perform the bonding ritual, though."

"Something to look into," said Harry. "If you're not thinking of getting one for a while, you've got plenty of time to decide."

"I don't know if I can afford a familiar," said a suddenly sad Hermione.

Harry and Daphne grinned at each other while Hermione had her head down.

"There's no '_affording_' of a familiar, in the general sense, Hermione" said Daphne. "While a pet can be a familiar, a familiar is not really a pet. A familiar, in the sense of the relationship between Harry and Hedwig, is more that they're - ummm - well, linked. But that doesn't explain it any better."

"You can't just go into a pet store and buy a familiar," said Harry. "The familial bond occurs naturally - magically. However, you can find your familiar waiting for you in a pet store, just as I found Hedwig in the Owl Emporium waiting for me. I knew she was my familiar because I was drawn to her. And, as soon as our eyes locked together, I _knew_ who she was. I felt it."

"And," said Daphne. "A familiar does not necessarily have to be a toad, or a cat or an owl, which is what you're limited to as _pets_. It can be any creature, really. It's believed Merlin's familiar was a dragon; Gryffindor's was a Griffin; Slytherin's was a serpent; Ravenclaw's was a raven; and Hufflepuff's was a badger. Hence, the emblems. And, of course, we know that Dumbledore's is a phoenix."

"Is there a spell I can cast to find my familiar?" asked Hermione.

"Not that I'm aware of," replied Daphne while Harry shook his head and shrugged.

"Everything I read in that book," said Harry. "Said that familiars come naturally. However, you can open yourself to accepting a familiar bond by walking through pet shops and allowing your magic to feel one out. See if you can get a chance to go to Diagon Alley, over Christmas, and take a wander through the pet shops, including the Owl Emporium."

"I'm sure things will work out if you have faith, Hermione," said Daphne. "Sometimes, good things can happen when you least expect them to. And, if you feel your magic pulling you into a pet store or somewhere else, allow it to happen; within reason, of course."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At just after 4.00pm people began to filter in. Daphne had the ledger with ink and a quill ready for folks to sign in. And both noticed quite a few new people in the group, who had to write their own names adding them to the bottom of the register.

By the time 4.30pm came around they had filled almost every seat.

At 4.30pm Harry closed the door and said, "Welcome, everyone. It's good to see some new faces among us."

"For those who weren't here last fortnight, this weekend I promised to go over the Houses within Wizarding Britain. What they represent; and who they are."

"Some of you have already heard me tell you about them, especially those of you in First and Second Year Ravenclaw. However, so you're all informed of them, we're covering that information again; plus more.

For the next hour, Harry and Daphne discussed and identified the Houses. They covered the basic history of each, how they interact in society and, from the lists handed out, who the most important people in each house were.

They also covered a little about the betrothal and what it meant, and why betrothal contracts existed from a political standpoint. However, they also went into the normal magic that was related to betrothal contracts.

With the help of volunteers from the club members, both also demonstrated a lot of the formal modes of greeting; how greetings were carried out formally and informally; whether the person or persons visited via floo, apparation or just walked up; if it was in someone's private home or out in public; and quite a few others.

The club members loved it and laughed in the right places. Some even volunteered to make right fools of themselves to highlight errors.

After getting everyone calmed down again and regaining some semblance of control. Harry and Daphne decided to wrap the meeting up.

"So, there you have it," said Harry. "Any questions?"

"So, the Noble and Most Ancient Houses," asked one of the newbies. "They're like, wizarding royalty, yeah?"

"In a way," replied Harry. "You can think of them as equal in rank to Marquessates. Noble and Ancient Houses are on a par with Earldoms; and so forth."

"Then, who is the King or Queen? The Minister?"

"_Merlin_, no!" replied Daphne. "There hasn't been a person recognised as ruler of magical Britain since Merlin. And, even _he_ refused to be recognised as such."

"What about Gryffindor and the other founders?" asked a second person.

"Godric Gryffindor, Salazaar Slytherin, Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff were elevated to the rank of Earls and Countesses, respectively, replied Harry. "However, they lived before there was a recognised ruler of the non-magical realm. Back then the rulers were Dukedoms; and Marquessates did not exist. So Earldoms were the next rank down from ruler of the realm."

"So, it's the Noble and Ancient House of Gryffindor, et cetera?"

"No," replied Daphne. "The rankings of Noble and Most Ancient House and down were not officially recognised until centuries after the passing of the four founders. However, if their heirs were to be discovered, thereby reactivating the House, then I believe they'd be recognised as Noble and Most Ancient, if not something of higher status."

"Higher?" asked the same person.

With a shrug, Daphne replied, "There are some who believe the heir apparent of one of the founders should rightfully be the ruler of magical Britain. The trouble is, no one really knows who the rightful heir actually _is_. Almost _all_ of the Most Ancient and Ancient Houses can trace their lineage back to at least one, if not more, of the founders.

"The problem _then_ arises in determining who the rightful heir would be from among them. You need to understand that there has been a lot of interfamily marriages among the Great Houses. Even my and Harry's betrothal is an example of that. If someone is actually discovered to be the highest claimant to the title, then _that_ person would become Duke of Magical Britain - the ruler of all. Magical Britain has never been thought of as a kingdom; but has been considered by some historians to be a Duchy. Hence, the title of Duke."

"And no one's ever stepped forward to claim the title?"

"Of course, they have," replied Harry. "The last one to publicly do it was Voldemort. He came forth about twenty years ago making the claim _he_ was the Heir of Slytherin. Based on that claim, he claimed it was his right to rule wizarding Britain. He then used terrorism over the next decade to try to enforce his claim. He, of course, failed in his attempt."

"It is also believed, through common consensus," said Daphne, "that the rightful Heir of the title Duke of Magical Britain will come bearing proof of their right. No one rightly knows what it is - it could be the mythical staff of Merlin; the sword Excalibur - also known as Caledfwlch and Calesvol; the Three Deathly Hallows of the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the True Cloak of Invisibility; or could merely be a true record of blood heritage found through the Inheritance Test the goblins can perform called Primogenitor. No one knows."

After a few more questions, the meeting was about to break up.

As everyone was making their way out, Harry called out, "That's it for this fortnight. I think we've also run over time a little. Next fortnight we'll be discussing the Ministry and the Wizengamot. That'll be real edge of your seat stuff," he joked.

As expected he got a few quiet chuckles.

Harry and Daphne, with the help of the others, were soon able to clear up and lock the meeting room again. They made it down to the Great Hall for Sunday dinner with time to spare.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After three weeks at Hogwarts for Harry, four for the others, the weeks started to flow by.

As promised, a few days after the second meeting, Professor Flitwick gave him a book on pretty advanced Charms he wanted him to read. And a second book came only a few days later from Professor McGonagall.

At the third meeting of the etiquette club Daphne had to call a house elf to have extra desks and chairs installed. The inner 'U' was reduced in size with gaps between desks and a second 'U' was installed outside of it with similar gaps. It shortened the meeting by fifteen minutes while it was all sorted out. They now had almost fifty regular attendees. Most from the older year cohorts.

At the end of the meeting Harry told them he was ordering them a book each. This excited the Ravenclaws but did nothing for the Gryffindors. The Hufflepuffs were pretty apathetic to it all.

Harry used the clubroom to practice a lot of the Spells out of the books the two Professors loaned him. However, he couldn't advance into the Hexes due to fear of damaging the room.

Finally, he sat propped against a desk and called for a house elf.

When the little being appeared he asked, "You wouldn't happen to know where in the castle I can go to practice my defensive and offensive spell work, do you? I don't actually want to damage anything, especially if I'm unable to repair it afterwards."

The little elf frowned for a moment before it looked up and brightly replied, "Youse can use the 'Come and Go' room, young master."

"The 'Come and Go' room?" asked Harry. "I've not heard of it."

"Yous must go to the seventh floor, young master," replied the elf. "Stand near the tapes-tree of the one trying to teach trolls to dance. I's shall meet you there."

And without a further word the little elf was gone.

Harry packed his things and was trying to figure out what the elf meant. With his bookbag slung over his shoulder, Harry took one last look around the room, then stepped outside. He pulled the door shut behind himself and locked it.

He quickly made his way up to the seventh floor and was almost there when he finally figured out what the little elf was saying. The tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy.

Making his way to the dead ended corridor, Harry was shortly standing in front of the tapestry. He'd only just arrived when the elf popped in.

With a look of confusion, Harry looked at the elf and said, "There's nothing here, little one."

The elf frowned back and said, "Young master must walk back and forth three times and think of what type of room he wants. A door will appear."

The elf just stood there and watched Harry staring back at him.

With a shake of his head and sigh, thinking about daft house elves, Harry cleared his mind and pictured what he wanted. Once he had the image firmly in his mind, he began to walk up the hallway before turning around again and walking back the other.

On his third pass he didn't notice the door materialising on the blank wall opposite the tapestry. However, when he spun about to walk back the other way, he saw the door. It was tall with a mahogany-like finish and brass fittings.

He looked at the elf in surprise. The elf just gestured for him to enter.

He walked over to the door and opened it. He stepped inside and the little elf followed him in.

Inside, Harry found a long room with what looked to him like some form of target dummies at the other end. The target dummies appeared to each be holding a wand of some form. There was also quite a few innocuous things lying about in various base materials.

Harry looked down at the elf and, pointing at the dummies, asked, "I take it those are for shooting spells at?"

"Yes, young master," replied the elf. "Yous activate thems by issuing commands. Say, 'Training Level One' and they be starting there."

"What happens when I destroy them?" he asked.

"Theys be repaired and replaced," replied the elf. "Is part of the magics of this room."

"And this room can become anything I want?" he asked.

"Yes, young master," replied the elf.

Nodding, Harry said, "Then I thank you for your service today. You may leave with my gratitude."

The elf bowed and simply popped away.

Thinking a bit, Harry walked back out of the room, closing the door behind himself.

He then pictured something else in his mind and began the three time trip along the hallway. When he had finished he spun about and saw a different door in the wall.

Walking up to it he opened it and walked in.

Inside, it was like walking into a tropical rainforest. He could even hear small tropical birds calling from among branches. The room was even quite warm and a touch humid.

Directly in front of him was a cleared path. He walked along it as it bent out of the way. A few moments later, he came across a small clearing. The whole thing was exactly as he pictured in his mind he wanted.

Harry just stood there for a few moments shaking his head. Eventually, he left the room and watched as the door seemed to melt away into the wall.

Another three time trip along the hallway and the original mahogany-like door appeared. He walked straight in and dropped his bag onto a chair.

Popping his wand into his hand he approached the training dummies. With a firm voice he called, "Training Level One". Instantly, the training dummies began to move. They were firing low level spells at him with slow wand movements. He ducked them easily before firing a couple of Curses and Hexes right back.

Slowly, he upped the Curses he was throwing, wildly at times, towards the dummies.

Enjoying himself he cast a Stupefy at a dummy and watched it go down. A Blasting Hex at another saw that one smashed.

He then watched as the one he 'stunned' re-righted itself, and the one he significantly damaged faded away before being replaced by another dummy.

He called, "Stop!" And the training dummies halted all movement. He reholstered his wand and stood there for a few moments.

Grinning to himself, he went back to his bookbag, shouldered it, and walked out.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After he left the room, Harry dashed downstairs to the Great Hall. When he entered, he looked around for his friends. They were sitting at the Hufflepuff table. He hurried over.

"Where have you been?" hissed Hermione.

Noticing most people seemed to have already eaten a fairly good portion of their main dinner meal, Harry hurried to fill his plate with food he could get down fast. That meant no red meat, and only a little chicken with soft vegetables.

"Let me get this down, and I'll be right with you, Hermione," said Harry.

"We were getting worried about you," she pouted.

"Food first, talk later," said Harry, shovelling food into his mouth.

Though he worried it would make him a little sick to eat too fast, Harry was able to get a fair portion down before the main course was removed and replaced with desserts.

Reaching for the treacle pie, his favourite dessert, Harry said, "I've found the most amazing room up on the seventh floor," he said.

"Oh?" asked Daphne.

Nodding, he replied, "The house elves call it the 'Come and Go' room. I can't really explain it too well but can only say the room is able to transfigure itself into any style you want. Even outdoors."

"That sounds dangerous," frowned Hermione.

With a quick shake of his head, he said, "No, the elves don't think so, at any rate."

"And that's where you've been?" asked Daphne.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "As soon as the meal is over, what say you come with me up there and I show you?"

"Alright, Harry," he heard from the others.

They settled down to finish their dessert and, as soon as they'd eaten their fill, they rose as one and left the Hall. Thankfully, as it wasn't a feast, they didn't have to hang back for Headmaster announcements.

Ascending far slower than he descended, Harry led his friends through one of the hidden passages to get up to the seventh floor that much quicker.

Once in the seventh floor corridor he had them all stand in front of the tapestry.

"Alright," he said. "I now need to walk back and forth in this corridor three times. Then, whatever room I wish for, will appear behind a door that will appear on the opposite wall."

He received some odd looks back that said they generally didn't believe him.

"Trust me," he said. "Now, who wants to come up with an idea for a room?"

"Ummm..." began Susan. "How about - somewhere we can all sit down and talk. Around an open plan combined common room, sort of thing."

"That sounds like a _great_ idea," replied Harry. "Anyone else?"

"No," replied Neville. "Sounds fine to me."

"Alright, then," said Harry. "Watch and observe."

Picturing the concept in his mind, Harry began to walk. He walked back and forth, thinking clearly about what he wanted. On the third pass, the door appeared.

It was the gasps of surprise that made him stop earlier than he thought to. Spinning around, he saw a door had appeared on the wall.

With a grin, he walked over to it and opened it, stepping just inside.

The room looked amazing. It was a reasonably small style common room but was bedecked in all the colours of the four school Houses. Along one wall was a fireplace that jutted into the room, with couches and small armchairs around it in a semi-circle.

There were also windows showing the night sky outside, throw rugs covering the floor, a couple of folded blankets on the back of some chairs, and a couple doors leading off to who knew where.

As he was standing there looking around, first Daphne, and then the others, all walked in after him.

"This is - _amazing_!" said Hermione in a soft voice.

"I _know_; right?" said Harry.

"And this room appears, as anything you can want for a room, just by walking past the wall three times thinking about what you want?" she asked.

"Not just a room," replied Harry. "While trying to figure out the limitations of the room, earlier, I thought about an outdoor area in a rainforest in which to have a picnic. It was astonishing and exactly what I was thinking of.

"It had trees, the sound of birds in the tree tops, the weather was quite warm and humid, and everything was real. Real trees, real grass, everything."

"And this is where you've been, this afternoon?" asked Daphne.

"I was originally in the club meeting room," replied Harry. "However, I cannot afford to practice any of the Curses or stronger Hexes in there for fear of damaging something. So, I had a bit of inspiration and decided to call a house elf. It was the house elf that told me to come up to this particular corridor and, once I was up here, what I had to do to make the room appear.

"The room I got had these magical target dummies I could throw spells at. If I damaged them, they were replaced. If I knocked them out they would stay down for a while before getting up again. I was finally able to use some of those Spells in those advanced books Professors Flitwick and McGonagall loaned me. What time it was completely slipped my mind."

"Can we try for something different?" asked Daphne.

"Of course!" said Harry. "But, I think everyone has to leave the room first."

"Maybe..." said Daphne. Suddenly, her demeanour changed and she asked, "Can everyone wish for me to have what I want to appear?"

Surprised, Harry said, "You want to change it while we're in the room?"

"Yes," replied Daphne. "I want to see what happens. If it's even possible."

Susan said, "Alright, then. Everyone wish for what Daphne wants."

Harry concentrated on making Daphne happy by wanting what she wanted. Soon the room blurred. Very quickly everything came back into focus and Harry found himself with the others in the Greengrass Estate parlour.

Looking around, he said, "_Wow_! That's just - wow!"

"Ummm - where are we now?" asked Hermione.

"This is the parlour of my home," replied Daphne softly with a happy smile. "This is Greengrass Estate."

Harry walked over to where he could see out the French doors through the dining room. Everything seemed so real.

"You live here?" asked Hermione.

Before Daphne could respond, Harry said, "No. This is what it looks like where Daphne - and I, I guess - live. It's a - replica."

"How do you know it's a replica?" asked Hannah.

"If this was the _real_ Greengrass Estate, the house elves would have immediately sensed our presence and arrived. No house elves; therefore, not real."

"Still, it would be nice to be able to come here if I get homesick," said Daphne with a wistful expression.

A few moments later, Daphne said, "Alright, let's see this spell practice room you came up with."

"Alright," said Harry. "Let's see if more than one person can influence things. Everyone focus on a spell crafting or duelling room."

Very quickly the room seemed to blur before it slowly came back into focus. This time the room was similar to how Harry remembered it, but the room was now larger. The dummies were sideways across the room at one end, there were still various objects lying about, but there was also now a small area set up similar to a common room.

"Alright, then," said Harry. "This is different to how it was when I was in here earlier. It's larger, for a start. There's also this whole sitting area." He indicated the lounges and such.

"I think that was me, said Susan. "I wanted somewhere to sit and I was thinking about those chairs in the room earlier."

"And the bookcases over there must belong to me," said Hermione, indicating a selection of books on twinned bookcases beyond the lounge area.

Daphne asked, "Do you think you can show us how the training dummies work, Harry?"

Harry nodded, walked over to one of the couches and dropped off his bookbag. Then he walked to the end of the room across from the training dummies.

"The elf said they work on command," he said before calling out, "Training Level One."

Suddenly, the training dummies began to move and started firing low level Hexes and Curses towards Harry. Harry dodged the first few before he started firing back.

After about thirty seconds he cast a Depulsion Curse at one, causing it to fly backwards and strike the wall, before casting a Stunner at the other, causing it to collapse.

He waited the few seconds for the first one to dematerialise and be replaced with another, and the second to re-erect itself, before he called, "Stop!"

Both dummies immediately froze in place.

Harry turned and grinned at the others who were looking back a little gobsmacked.

"Harry," said Hermione, first to find their voice. "Those last two were at least Third Year spells."

"Yes," replied Harry. "Remember how I told you Professors Flitwick and McGonagall want to give me advanced spell books to work with? To test how much knowledge I can assimilate in a short amount of time? Those two were in those books."

"Well," said Daphne, stepping in before Hermione could ask any more questions. "You've clearly got power. Now you need to learn control and - finesse. You need to learn how to aim better and not waste so much energy in your spell casting. We can work on that."

"What about your transfiguration abilities?" asked Hannah.

"Now that's a lot harder," said Harry.

He walked over to one of the shapes made of wood. "Transfiguration, I've found, is far harder than Charms, Curses and the like," he said. "The latter is simply pushing with your magic while making the right gesture with the wand and saying the command.

"Transfiguration, however, is altering the molecular structure of the very material in which you're working; and changing the shape, size, et cetera; all in the one act of spell casting.

"I've not yet been able to do much with that. And it's something I'm going to have to talk with Professor McGonagall about."

He then converted the block of wood into a pretty wonky looking rocking horse. "As you can see," he said, indicating his so-called creation, "I'm pretty pants at it, at the moment."

"Harry," shrilled Susan, "That's bloody impressive! We can't do that!"

"What about the transfigurations we have to do across the rest of the year?" asked Daphne.

"Oh, they're relatively easy," said Harry. "I'm not that good at turning a mouse into a snuff box yet - It still has fur and can sometimes have a tail - but the rest is not that difficult."

"You are _not_ pants at transfiguration," scowled Daphne. "You're just trying to transfigure things that are too large for you, just yet."

Pointing at a poorly cut block of stone, she said, "Can you make that a perfect block shape? Just square it up and see if you can give it a polished surface, for now."

Harry looked at it, thought about it for a few moments, and then cast. What he was left with was an almost perfectly cut stone with smooth sides.

"Now _that's_ impressive," said Neville.

"And it's what I thought," said Daphne. "You were able to do so well doing that because you were able to create a better image in your mind of what it is you wanted to create. You knew how to picture the perfect shape, and you didn't need to change the material of the stone to get it done. So, you ended up very close with what you wanted."

"So," said Harry. "The better the picture the better the result?"

"That's part of it," she replied. "But you also need to understand the properties of the material you want to transfigure it to. To make something of wood, you need to understand that particular type of wood. To make something of marble, you need to understand the properties of marble. And so on."

"Huh!" said Harry. "Thanks, for that."

"Anyway," said Daphne. "We all need to get back to our own common rooms. And some of us have further to go that others."

"Yeah," said Neville. "We'd best be off."

After Harry collected his bag off the chair, the group exited the room. And they watched as the door disappeared.

Harry then said, "Hermione, Neville, you guys head off. I'm going to show the others a shortcut down to the dungeons."

"Alright, Harry," said Hermione. Together they walked back to the grand staircase. Neville and Hermione headed down, but Harry led the other four witches across to the corridor on the other side of the staircase.

"This is a shortcut?" asked Tracey.

"You'll see," replied Harry.

He led them over to the statue in the alcove the Weasley twins showed him a few weeks earlier. Walking into it he found one of the wall sconces and gave it a twist. That opened the hidden passage.

Turning back, he grinned at the girls before walking in and beckoning them to follow.

Daphne was right behind him and hoped the others kept up.

"Lumos!" he called with his wand tip pointed up. When the others did the same he then led them along the passage, down the single flight of stairs and along the remaining part of the passage.

He found the wall where he knew the hidden door was, and gave it a push. It swivelled open.

He stepped out and made sure the hallway was clear, and invoked, "Nox!" to turn his Light Charm off. Then beckoned the others out.

When they were all out he indicated the sconce that needed to be turned ninety degrees to open the passage again.

Walking to the cross corridor he pointed to the left and said, "I think the Slytherin rooms are that way. The grand staircase is the other.

Daphne looked about and said, "Yes, they are."

Then she turned to Harry, kissed him on the cheek and said, "Night!" before walking off to the left with Tracey.

"No kiss from me, Harry," grinned Susan, before she and Hannah went the other way.

Harry quickly returned to the hidden passage, returned to the seventh floor, and made his way from there to the Ravenclaw tower.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	24. Second Rant

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Four – Second Rant**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The only downside in Harry's days now, was the rapidly approaching Halloween Feast. Now that he knew it was the anniversary of the death of his parents, Halloween held no joy for him. And this year marked the tenth anniversary of their death.

The others noticed his occasional despondent attitude, and it wasn't long before Daphne pulled him aside. It was the Tuesday afternoon before the feast.

"Alright, Mister Potter," she said. "Spill. What keeps dumping you into this gloomy attitude you keep getting, of late."

With a sigh, Harry ran his fingers through his hair. "Halloween's coming up," he simply said.

"Yes, the tenth anniversary of the defeat of..." it suddenly dawned on Daphne.

Harry, seeing the look pass across his betrothed's face, hung his head.

"Oh, _Merlin_; Harry!" she quietly exclaimed. "How could we have been so _stupid_?"

Snapping his head up to look into Daphne's eyes he raised his hand and lightly cupped her cheek. "No, it's okay," he fondly said. "I know it's a day of celebration for the wizarding world. For me..." He shrugged.

"It's the anniversary of your parent's murders," she softly finished.

"It's - just a little hard to see everyone so upbeat about it," he said. "I understand, of course. But, it's not something _I_ can feel upbeat about; you know?"

"Of course not," she replied, pulling him into a hug.

"We've all been told it's mandatory to attend the feast, as it _is_ a feast," said Harry. "I, however, will much prefer to be abed. So, that's where I'm going to be."

Nodding, she replied, "I understand. But, if you need me, I'll be there for you. Mandatory attendance, bedamned."

Together they went for a walk along various hallways and corridors through the castle, until they returned to the Great Hall for dinner.

Knowing that Daphne had gone to talk to Harry about his gloomy mood, the others didn't say anything about it at dinner. When Harry left afterwards saying he wanted to get in a couple hours of sleep before Astronomy that night, the others just bid him a good night.

As soon as he had left the Hall, the others all looked expectantly at Daphne. She sighed and only had to remind them that Halloween was the anniversary of his parent's murders for them to realise what was going on with their unofficial leader.

"_Please_, don't talk to him about it, alright?" she begged. "He just wants everyone to continue as normal and pretty much said to enjoy the feast. I'm sure he'll be fine not long afterwards."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the morning of Halloween Harry was sitting with Neville in Charms while Hermione was sitting with the redheaded idiot, Ronald Weasley.

Harry was helping Neville with the incantation and the wand movement for the charm, as he'd already mastered it, and could see the boy seemed to be struggling. Harry knew he was doing everything right but it wasn't working for him.

"Here," said Harry, offering his own wand to Neville. "Try it with mine."

"But, Harry; that's not right," said Neville. "It's _your_ wand."

"And _I'm_ offering it," said Harry. "Please. Try."

With a sigh, Neville put his own wand on the bench and accepted Harry's. As soon as it was in his hand, his eyes widened. "Whoa," he said. "I can _feel_ that."

While Neville was concentrating on the feel of Harry's wand in his own hand, Harry picked up Neville's. As an opposite effect, Harry could barely feel anything from the wand. It may as well have been a stick.

Looking closely at the wand Harry could see it was well worn. There were dings and nicks almost all along it's length, especially near the tip. The wand was well polished and cared for, but was clearly an old one.

Setting the wand back down, Harry said to Neville, "Settled into your hand yet? Now try the Charm."

With a flick and a swish Neville incanted, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_" The feather leapt off the desk straight up as if it was being shot out of a cannon. It hovered above five feet over their heads.

"I think that was a bit _too_ much power, Neville," said Harry, as both boys were staring up at the feather.

Neville was gobsmacked. It had worked. Not only that; it had worked really well.

Professor Flitwick came over and said, "Well done, Mister Longbottom. Now, you need to back off on the amount of power you're using. Remember, it's only a feather; not a boulder."

"Professor Flitwick, Sir," said Harry. "This time, I loaned my wand to Neville and he's using that." Offering Neville's wand to the professor, he said, "And this is the wand Neville is using."

Professor Flitwick took the offered wand while Neville was letting the feather sink back to the bench top. He moved it through his fingers, peering at it closely.

As the feather finally dropped into Neville's reach, he reached out and took it, placing it back on the bench top.

"Try it again, Neville," said Harry. "This time, only allow a trickle of your magic to flow through the wand.

With another flick, swish and incantation; a lot quieter and gentler this time; the feather rose into the air and hovered about two feet off the bench top.

"That was _easy_," gasped Neville. "I can't do that with my wand."

"That's because this isn't _your_ wand, Mister Longbottom," said the professor, flicking Neville's wand in the air a little. "Why are you using it?"

Looking abashed down at the bench top, Neville replied, "It's my father's. Gran - my grandmother - said I would be honouring my father by using it."

"Nonsense!" snorted the professor. "A wand has to be in tune with you as you have to be in tune with it. This wand is a very poor match for you, Mister Longbottom. You need to be fitted with one of your own."

The professor offered the wand back. Harry reached out and took it.

Looking at his own feather, he swished, flicked and incanted at it. The feather barely twitched.

"No wonder you're struggling," muttered Harry. Looking up at the professor, he asked, "Permission to contact Madam Longbottom to right this wrong, Professor."

"No," replied the professor. "I shall discuss the matter with Professor McGonagall and have her contact Madam Longbottom. It would be best if it came from a professor. There's no need for you to be involved further."

Thinking a moment, the Professor said, "And that's ten points to Ravenclaw for both care of a friend in difficulties, and for correctly identifying the problem, Mister Potter. Well done."

After the professor left to attend other students, Harry had Neville use his wand for the remainder of the class. When Neville tried to refuse, Harry merely said he'd already 'mastered' the Charm and did not need to practice it.

Hearing a noise from closer to the front of the class, Harry could see Hermione seemed to be becoming upset with her partner, Ronald Weasley. There was another student who could not seem to get it right.

Professor Flitwick moved down to see what the matter was and, after a few moments, had the boy's wand in his own hands. The professor took a closer look at the wand and clearly was not happy. He was shaking his head and frowning.

As soon as they were released from class Neville switched wands back with Harry and they left together. They dawdled a little as they were waiting for Hermione to catch them up.

From behind, they heard the Weasley boy say to someone in a clear voice, "Honestly! Mental, that one! Always such a _know_-it-all!"

A moment later, Harry felt someone nudge his shoulder as they ran past with their bookbag as it was held to their chest. It was Hermione.

It took only a moment for Harry to realise that she'd heard the boy make those disparaging remarks. He was of two minds. Did he run after her; or deal with the idiot.

Immediately after, he heard laughter coming from at least two young boys behind him.

It was Neville who made the decision. "I'll go after her," he quietly said. "You deal with the loud mouth." And he took off running after her.

Harry was furious. He spun on his heel and was just in the right place to grab the redhead by the front of his robes and drag him closer. At a distance of barely an inch he barked, "What the _hell_ is your problem, Weasley?"

Trying to back away, the boy gaped at him like a fish.

"She was trying to _help_ you, you idiot!" he yelled. "Clearly, you desperately needed it after destroying at least _two_ feathers and making a mess of a _third_!"

He shoved the boy away from him and snarled, "If Mister Longbottom is unable to calm her down and help her to see you are utterly _unworthy_ of her help; may God help you. Because, I will be _coming_ for you!"

Harry spun around and stormed away. But, as he did so, Weasley drew his wand and started to raise it.

As his arm came up, someone else's hand shot out and pushed his arm back down again.

Stepping forward as he pushed Weasley's arm down, Michael Cornfoot, the kid who appeared to have Amerindian blood, quietly glared and said, "Don't be an even bigger idiot, Ron. If you _did_ manage to get a spell off at him, I have no doubt he'll rip you apart. You'll be lucky to get out of the hospital before Christmas break." Then walked away.

The crowd that had gathered when all the ruckus had started, moved away now that it was over. But, it was also clear there were no other students who would side with the redhead.

Weasley was left with only his two friends, Seamus Finnigan and Dean Thomas, for company. And even _they_ didn't look to be happy with him.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Neville had managed to track Hermione down in the girl's toilet on the second floor. Though neither joined the others in the library, both made it for lunch.

Harry had already told the others what had happened. So, when Neville and Hermione walked up to where they were all sitting at the Hufflepuff table, the girls were quick to embrace Hermione in hugs and words of caring.

They sat her between Hannah and Tracey in a show of solidarity while they ate. During the course of the meal, she was approached by all four other Gryffindor First Year girls offering their own words of care and friendship.

On quite a few times, she had to take a small handkerchief from her pocket and wipe her eyes of tears. It was clear she was quite moved by the overt show of support she was receiving.

Harry had grabbed a book from the library and was avidly reading it while keeping a weather eye on what was going on.

As the meal finished and they were getting ready to head to their next classes - Harry had Potions with Susan and Hannah - he walked up to Hermione and said in a formal but carrying voice, "Miss Hermione Jean Granger, I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, offer you the protection of my House. Do you accept?"

The rest of the group gasped suddenly at what Harry had said and asked of their muggleborn friend.

Those who heard around them from outside the group, suddenly ceased what they were doing and stared at the tableau in shock.

Hermione, knowing it was something big, looked back at Harry in a bit of shock. "I..." she stuttered. "I - don't know what that means."

Though he hadn't asked Daphne if he could do it first. She was clearly quite pleased with what Harry was set on doing.

Quickly, Tracey and Hannah began rapidly whispering to Hermione. As they did so, her eyes became as big as saucers staring at Harry, and she slightly paled.

When the girls backed away, looking at Harry quite pleased, Hermione steadied herself and said a little tremulously, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, accept the protection of House Potter, m... my Lord."

Drawing his wand, Harry carefully held out the tip so it was next to the left shoulder of the girl, and said, "Then, so mote it be!" And tapped her high on her upper arm as he did so.

There was sudden but muted flash at Hermione's shoulder and there appeared a small House Potter Crest outlined in white.

Harry resheathed his wand and said with a smile, "Welcome to the protection of House Potter, Miss Granger."

The others of the group crowded closer around. The girls clearly showing their excitement.

Neville reached across and grasped Harry's shoulder for a moment before saying, "That's a _bloody_ clever idea, Harry."

"But, what does it all mean?" asked Hermione, softly.

"It means, Hermione," said Tracey. "That anyone who attacks you, for any reason, also attacks House Potter. Harry is now able to bring the weight of House Potter and it's allied Houses down upon anyone who stupidly does so."

"It also means," said Daphne. "That you're now considered to have all the rights associated with being a pureblood. You've just moved from being near the lowest scale of wizarding society to it's upper reaches. It's actually a very cunning move on Harry's part."

Thinking for a moment, Hermione was suddenly quite concerned. "This won't get you in trouble, will it?" she asked.

"No," replied Harry. "I've done nothing wrong. However, the bigots are probably going to be upset about it. But, there's nothing they can do without trashing their own customs and traditions. And they're not going to do that any time soon."

"Is there anything I have to do; while under your protection, I mean?" she worriedly asked.

"You have to allow me to graze my sheep on your land if I want to do so," he said. "However, as you don't personally own any land; and I don't own any sheep; I don't see that being a problem."

That elicited chuckles and giggles from the group.

"And we'd all best be getting a move on," said Daphne. "We'll be late for class if we don't hurry."

The Seven quickly left the Great Hall with Hermione often checking the House Crest was still there.

After class, Harry was surprised to see Daphne waiting for him.

"If you're having trouble sleeping tonight, Harry," she said. "Make sure you visit Madam Pomfrey and ask her for something to help."

Harry nodded and said, "I will. Thank you, Daphne."

"Do you want to come to the library and get some homework out of the way?" she asked. "Or, would you prefer to head back to your dorm now?"

"Dorm; I think," replied Harry. "I'll see you in the morning."

Daphne turned him towards herself and gently kissed him on the lips. "Try and have a good night's sleep. And I'll see you at breakfast, alright?"

Nodding, he replied, "Alright, Daphne. And, thank you."

While Harry was walking away, Daphne watched his back. It wasn't until he had turned the corner heading for the grand staircase that she sighed and headed for the library with Susan and Hannah.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The Headmaster looked across the four House tables from where he sat upon his new chair at the head table. With a slight frown of reminiscence he thought to himself, 'I miss my throne.'

That made him think of the Potter boy.

Looking across at the Ravenclaw table he searched the collection of First Years. Not seeing him there, he then searched further down each side of the table. After a long few moments he realised the boy wasn't sitting at that particular table.

Casting his eyes over the other tables he searched for what stood out. The blue and bronze trim out of place at another table. He wasn't sitting with Miss Greengrass or Davis at Slytherin. He wasn't sitting with Miss Bones or Abbott at Hufflepuff. And, he wasn't sitting with Mister Longbottom or Miss Granger at Gryffindor.

With a frown he turned to his deputy, Professor McGonagall, sitting at his right.

"Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Albus?"

"Why do I not see Mister Potter sitting among the students?" he asked. "Has he taken ill and I've not been informed?"

Professor McGonagall replied, "Not that I'm aware of, Albus," before she quickly scanned the tables herself.

"Please ask Professor Flitwick to locate him for me, will you?" he asked.

Turning to her own right, Professor McGonagall asked the diminutive professor sitting there, "Filius? It appears young Mister Potter is missing from the feast. Do you know where he is?"

Professor Flitwick, instead of verbally replying, hopped up to stand on his chair before looking out across the tables.

Once he'd carried out his own search with his eyes, he hopped back down and said, "No, I'm unaware of where the boy is. He's not in the infirmary?"

"No," replied Professor McGonagall. "Poppy's here and she wouldn't be if she had a student under her care."

With a sigh, the Charms Master called for a house elf, "Tippy!"

When the elf popped in alongside and just behind the row of seats, the Professor saw it and asked, "We seem to be missing a First Year student, Tippy. Is there one in the Ravenclaw tower?"

"Yes, Perfessor FlittyWicky," replied the elf. "One student is abed in First Year boy's dorm."

"Thank you, you may go," said the Professor. Turning his eyes towards his students, he silently counted the First Year boys. Only one was missing; Harry Potter.

"Minerva," said the Professor. "It appears young Mister Potter is in bed, asleep."

He watched as she passed the message to the Headmaster.

Carefully holding his beard out of his meal, the Headmaster leaned forward in his seat and locked eyes with the much smaller Professor. "Get him and tell him attending the feast is mandatory, Filius," the old man said, a little angrily. "I expect to see him down here within the next fifteen minutes."

The little Professor sighed and replied, "Yes, Headmaster." He was enjoying his soup. Now he'd miss the end of it. He only hoped he'd be able to return before the main meal was served.

Hopping down off his seat he quickly made his way out of the Great Hall and into the Entrance Hall.

Five minutes later he was walking into the First Year boys' dorm. The curtains around one of the beds was closed. The bed he knew to be young Mister Potter's.

Walking to the side he pulled the curtains apart near the head of the bed.

"Mister Potter," he called to the boy, clearly asleep in the bed.

Harry barely twitched.

"Mister Potter!" the professor called louder.

Harry opened his eyes and looked around in confusion for a few moments. He then recognised the professor standing alongside his bed.

"Professor Flitwick?" he asked. "What's wrong?"

Sitting up suddenly, staring hard at the professor, he asked, "It's not Daphne, is it?"

"No, Mister Potter, it is not," replied the professor. "You are not at the feast. It is mandatory for everyone to attend. The Headmaster sent me to fetch you and tell you he expects you in the great hall in - five minutes."

"He naffing _what_?" snarled Harry.

"Mister Potter!" exclaimed the professor. "Watch your tone!"

"Tone?" asked Harry near speechless. "_Tone?!_"

"Mister Potter, as I said..." tried the professor, before he was cut off.

"_E-nough_!" snarled Harry, started to climb out of bed.

The little professor backed off to allow him room.

"I suggest you hurry back to the Great Hall, Professor," said Harry, ripping his pyjama shirt off over his head. "I will be there in five minutes."

The Professor gave a curt nod before leaving. Harry didn't see the expression on his own face. He was livid; furious.

Quickly, he dressed and hurried out of the dorms. Wand in hand he hurried via the shortcuts he'd learned down to the Entrance Hall. As he approached, he noticed the small professor hurrying in through the doors, which closed behind him.

Harry paused for a minute or two on the bottom of the stairs, thinking about what he was going to do.

"Right," he muttered. With wand in hand he gathered magic unto himself and walked towards the double door.

He raised his wand, pointed it at the doors, and called, "_Depulso!_"

The double doors slammed open as Harry stormed into the room. After a couple of shrieks of surprise the room went dead silent. He didn't notice it himself, but those with a trained eye could see the magic roiling off him in waves.

Harry stormed up the aisle between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

"Ah, Harry..." said the Headmaster, rising to his feet.

"_Shut_ it, old man!" barked Harry, still storming forward. Harry's voice had deepened and was somewhat amplified. Magic was working with him at an instinctive level.

Dumbledore, collapsed back into his seat in shock.

When Harry came to a halt where the students gathered for the sorting he glared with hate and malevolence at Dumbledore.

"How _dare_ you!" snarled Harry, his voice rising in anger and volume as he spoke. "How _dare_ you make me be here for this! How _dare_ you make me be here while the student body celebrates the _brutal murder of my parents at the wand of that psychopath!_"

"Oh, my..." said Professor McGonagall quietly, raising a shaking hand to her mouth, clearly just realising the implications of the moment.

"You utter _bastard_!" yelled Harry, his fury whipping his magic in swirls around him.

He stared at the old man and watched him wilt under his glare, before he spun about and stared across the student body.

"For the rest of you too _stupid_ to recognise the impact of this feast upon me," he barked. "You are all in the process of eating and making merry about the _murder_ of my parents; how my mum was slain right before my infant eyes; how a deranged psychotic killer with delusions of adequacy then turned his wand on me and tried to _kill me_! It is _that_ you celebrate this night."

With a slighter softer tone he said, "I _trust_ you'll forgive me if I don't join in on your merriment." And spun back to the head table.

Glaring back at the Headmaster, he said, "As for you, old man; I am at a complete loss how you could be so _cruel_, so _mean-spirited_, as to _force_ an eleven year old boy to be _tormented_ for hours like this.

"Then again; I really shouldn't be surprised, should I? After all, you _dumped_ me into an abusive home for ten years! Tormenting me for another few hours really shouldn't surprise _anyone_ of the depths of horror to which you're willing to sink, should it?

"You're a sick, evil and twisted individual, Albus Dumbledore!" he snarled. "And I have _no_ intention of pandering to your unholy fetishes!"

Harry spun on his heel and stormed back out of the room. A room that, except for a few quiet sobs and the sound of quiet exclamations during his tirade, remained silent. His magic, though somewhat calmer, still swirled about him as he made his way out the doors.

As soon as he'd left the room, Daphne was out of her seat like a shot and running after him. Tears streaked down her cheeks.

As soon as Daphne cleared the doors the students started quietly talking to one another. Not a few glares of hate were directed at the Headmaster as he just sat there, head bowed.

Dumbledore knew he had just been royally and very publicly spanked. He also knew any inroads he had made to have Harry trust him again had been well and truly lost. He felt he just couldn't seem to do right by the boy, of late.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry was able to ascend the first flight of the stairs in the Entrance Hall before he turned a corner and collapsed against a wall.

Daphne almost ran right past him, as she didn't see him at first.

His croaking cry of, "Daphne!" made her practically skid to a halt before she spun about. A quick couple of steps and she was sinking to the floor alongside him. She quickly pulled him into her embrace making sure his head was resting on her shoulder.

Together, they sat there for a few moments; neither speaking. Daphne only making cooing noises of comfort and gently rocking him as Harry sat there feeling physically, emotionally and magically drained, sobbing quietly.

After a few minutes, the heat Daphne felt in Harry's skin dissipated as he calmed down.

"Sorry, Daphne," he muttered. "I lost my temper again."

"I think anyone would have lost their temper in your place, Harry," she replied. "I also didn't realise just how powerful you are, magically, until I saw you in full fury in there."

Sitting up straighter, he asked, "What do you mean?"

With a smile she said, "Your magic was coming off you in waves, Harry. It was palpable. It swirled around you like a wind. Even your eyes glowed a little."

Shocked and surprised, he asked, "That's what it looks like?"

"It was quite a feat, and not a little scary," she replied. "I think you're going to find a lot of students are going to start giving you a wide berth, again."

"Oh, great," he groaned, dropping his head to his chest. "That's _just_ what I need."

"I happen to approve, Mister Potter," she said.

"Oh?" he asked, confused, bringing his head back up again.

Nodding, she said, "When you did that, it said to the whole student body, 'Harry Potter is not someone to mess with'. And that also means not messing with Harry Potter's friends - or his betrothed."

With a snort, he said, "Well, at least there's going to be an upside to this."

Hesitantly, she asked, "Will you teach me how to do that?"

"What; make your magic flare?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "It makes you look mighty powerful. I'm hoping it'll do the same for me."

With a shrug he said, "I - guess. It was something I started doing while I was in hospital at the beginning of September. I started doing it because I was bored and it made me tired enough to sleep."

"Well, I think I can go without dinner if you're willing to show me," she said.

Thinking a bit, he replied, "How about we go down to the kitchens first. That way, we can beg the elves for something to eat in private, and we can see about making a start on teaching you how to flare your magic."

"An excellent plan, Mister Potter," she warmly replied.

Harry smiled and climbed to his feet. Then he offered her a hand up.

Together, they walked back downstairs and down into the first level of the dungeons on their way to the kitchens. They made sure they weren't seen by anyone in the Great Hall as they ducked around the corner in the Entrance Hall.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

While sitting in the kitchen at the small bench Harry had placed the picnic basket upon a few weeks previously, they enjoyed their repast of roast beef sandwiches washed down with pumpkin juice.

Harry finished after Daphne, who had sat there patiently waiting after her single sandwich.

When he finished, he pushed his plate away, wiped his hands against each other, turned to her and asked, "Alright. Are you sure this is something you want to learn?"

With a wide smile, she replied with a few quick nods of her head and a quiet but excited, "Yes!"

He said, "Alright. I want you to drop into your first level of meditation. The start of when you go into your mind to work on your Occlumency."

He waited until she calmed right down with her eyes closed and he could see her whole being relax.

"When you cast with your wand, you feel your magic inside you. You then push with your magic out your wand to cast," he said. "Can you feel your magic now?"

"Yes," she replied.

"Good," he said. "Now I want you to take a long slow deep breath and feel it filling you up."

She did

"Now slowly let it back out."

She did.

"Good. That is how you draw _air_ into your body," he explained. "Now I want you to feel with your magic, and - breathe - it in. Draw it into your body."

He watched as she, at first, frowned a little, before she took a long deep breath. At the same time he could feel her magical energy also strengthen.

"Excellent!" he said. "You can do this now. You just did it. Do it again."

Again, she took a deep breath; and again her magic built up.

"You're doing really well," he said. "This time I want you to draw your magic in _without_ also taking a deep breath."

Again, she pulled that little frowning moue expression for a few moments before Harry felt her relax. Moments later, he could easily feel the magic emanating off her very being. It was making the hairs along his arms and down his back stand on end.

"Now draw the magic into your innermost self and allow it to - spill over - Allow it to overflow you."

This time Harry felt her entire being becoming flushed with magic.

"Keep that up, and open your eyes," he instructed.

Her eyes slowly opened and his met the most electrifying blue eyes he'd ever seen. As she had said his were, her eyes were practically glowing in return.

Her eyes widened, staring right back at him. She said, "Everything. All the colours are so - vibrant!"

Nodding, he said, "Keep your eyes open and draw the magic in again. Let it over flow."

Harry felt her aura flare back up. The plates and cutlery they'd just been using were lightly vibrating on the surface of the table at which they sat.

"Very good," he said. "Now let it settle back down. Allow the magic to ease back out of you."

He watched as her aura faded away and the crockery and cutlery stopped vibrating. Her eyes also lost their soft glow and they return to their normal blue.

He watched as the magic finally ebbed away and she gave a soft, sagging sigh.

"How do you feel?" he asked.

"That's - exhausting," she replied.

"Yeah, you'll sleep well, tonight; I assume," he said.

"I only did that for a few moments," she said. "You did it for a lot longer than that, this evening. You must be much more exhausted."

With a little shrug, he said, "I've also been practicing it a lot."

"What led you to start learning to do that?" she asked.

"Reading that _Magical Theory_ book by Adalbert Waffling," he replied. "It speaks about how you expend magic when you cast. It also said you need to wait for your magic to - refill - else you risk collapse from magical exhaustion."

Nodding, she said, "I remember that part."

Continuing he said, "I then thought to myself: if you can expend magical energy by choice, why can't you also pull it into yourself using the same principles; instead of waiting for your magic to refill on it's own."

Thoughtfully, she said, "That means you can draw magic from the ambient magic about us when you need it. You don't have to wait for it."

"Yes," he said. "However, I've also found that, at the moment, it's quite exhausting to do. I'm hoping that, as we get older and with more practice, it's something we can do all the time; when we want to."

"Magic is like a muscle; it needs to be exercised," she mused.

"Precisely," he replied with a smile. If expelling magic is like a muscle, why can't drawing magic in be the same, just in reverse?"

She nodded back in understanding. "Then I shall just have to practice, won't I?" she said with a grin.

As it was getting late, Harry escorted her down into the dungeons to the entrance to the Slytherin common room before using the secret passage to quickly get up to the seventh floor.

From there it was a quick trip to the Ravenclaw tower. He hadn't realised how late it was getting as his housemates had already returned. Most of them were already in bed and asleep, or quickly approaching that point.

The few older years in the common room only glanced up at him as he entered. No one said a word that he was actually arriving back in the common room after curfew.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	25. Fluffy

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Five - Fluffy**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A couple of days later, on the Saturday morning of the 2nd of November, he received an owl from Sirius. Sirius wanted to know about his 'tantrum' in the Great Hall on the night of the Halloween Feast.

Sirius wasn't accusing him of anything. Nor did his letter say Harry had actually done anything wrong. He just wanted to hear from Harry what had happened.

When Harry sighed after reading the letter at the breakfast table, Neville asked, "What's wrong?"

"Sirius wants to know what happened on the night of the Halloween feast," he replied. "He and the Greengrasses now know what happened."

"He's not accusing you of anything, is he?" asked Susan.

"No," he replied. "It's more like - he wants to know what happened and is going to the source, namely me, to get the true details."

"What are you going to tell him?" asked Neville.

Shaking his head, Harry replied, "It's easier if I just show him."

He reached into his robes and withdrew a small empty stoppered phial. He held it in his left hand while he flicked the stopper out with his thumb. Drawing his wand, he then focussed on his memories and brought the entire memory to the fore part of his mind. A press of the tip of his wand to his temple and he was shortly drawing the copy of the memory out.

Holding the memory dangling over the now unstoppered phial he let it slide in, before restoppering it.

He then cast an Unbreakable Charm on it before setting it aside.

Anyone bring any parchment and ink?" he asked.

"I have some," replied Hermione, bringing her ever-present bookbag around and onto her lap.

She quickly pulled forth the required material before dropping her bookbag to once more sit snugly at her hip. And offered the stationery to Harry.

Harry quickly wrote off a response before wrapping the phial within the parchment.

After having earlier dropped off that morning's copy of the Daily Prophet and winging away again, Hedwig returned to land in front of him. Harry quickly tied the small bundle to Hedwig's harness before softly kissing the owl on her beak.

She gave a couple of huffs and, once again, took wing. She was out through the high ceiling in a few seconds, on her way to Greengrass Estate.

"Honestly, Harry," said Hermione, after a while. "It doesn't hurt to put pen to paper - quill to parchment, I mean - and actually write what happened."

Harry grinned and said, "Napoleon Bonaparte once said, 'A picture is worth a thousand words'. Harry Potter adds the addendum, 'But, a memory is worth ten thousand'."

"The other advantages a memory has," said Susan, "is that Harry is not as likely to provide a false memory, so they'll know it's true; they may see things that even Harry missed; and the memory will include those things Harry didn't think as important enough to write about, but actually are," said Susan.

When everyone looked at her, she blushed and said, "My aunt told me why memories are so important in trials and debriefings of after action reports. They make a lot of use of such at the DMLE."

Daphne had her own letter. Changing the subject, she looked to Hermione, and said, "My mother said I was to, once again, impress upon you her thanks for the documents you sent her from the British Registrar Office. The more she delves into the information, facts and figures your parents have provided her through you, the more she's able to find to support your assertions regarding the birth-rates in Muggleborns."

Hermione blushed, ducked her head and said, "It was nothing. It only took my parents to write a letter, pay a small fee and wait for the results through the mail."

Smiling, Daphne said, "It may only have been a small act, but it's impact has apparently been astounding on her research. She would also like permission to visit with your parents to thank them personally for their assistance."

"I..." stuttered Hermione. "I'll - ask them."

Smiling, Daphne said, "Thank you, Hermione."

"Well," said Harry, trying to save Hermione further embarrassment, "who wants to go up to the Come and Go Room. Daphne asked me to teach her something a couple of evenings ago; and, I thought the rest of you might like to learn, too."

He was met with six grins.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry asked the room to configure itself into the multi-House common room they found when he first showed them the room. It became their meeting place when they wanted to spend time together away from the talking-suppressing library, and away from the other students.

The room allowed them to openly talk amongst themselves, even laugh at some of the stories they told one another. With the addition of the bookcases, it also allowed them access to books to do homework.

Through unspoken agreement, the room was their secret. They never told anyone else about it, lest others take it for themselves and deny them time in it. That may be greed on their part, but everyone else had the same opportunities as Harry to find the room on their own.

Once they were all seated, Harry asked, "Alright, how is everyone's Occlumency?"

The general consensus was that they were all fine - for their age group. All except Hermione.

"How are you doing, Hermione?" he asked.

"I understand the concept well enough," she replied a little depressed. "But I've no idea if I'm doing things right."

"How well does it match that book I loaned you, '_Occlumency for Beginners_'?" he asked.

"I think I'm on par for when I have to start setting up my mind traps," she said.

"Then, how's your meditation?" he asked.

"Oh, that I can do quite easily now," she replied a lot happier.

"Okay, good," replied Harry, before turning to the wider audience. "Everyone else is alright with meditating?"

Besides Daphne, he received four nods in response.

"Excellent," said Harry. "Daphne asked me to teach her something she saw me do. So, I did."

Turning to her, he said, "Why don't you tell them about it and demonstrate for them?"

"Thank you," she said back. Turning to the others she asked, "I suppose you all noticed how Harry's magic was palpable and swirling around him when he entered the Great Hall on the night of the feast?"

She received five nods in response.

"Well, I managed to catch up to Harry after he left and we talked for a while," she said. "I wanted to know if he had made his magic flare like that on purpose. Well, he did. So, I then asked him to show me how he did it. And he did that, too."

Daphne sat still for a few moments before her magic began to build around herself. It wasn't long before everyone felt the same electrical feeling on their skin, with hairs standing up on arms. A few of the girls found their hair starting to stand up as if from static electricity.

"Oh, wow!" said Hermione, rubbing her arms.

"Sweet Merlin!" whispered Neville. "That's amazing!"

Hannah softly said, "Your eyes are practically glowing!"

Daphne gently eased the magic back away and sighed.

Gathering herself, she said, "Harry taught me in only a few minutes. He's a really good teacher." She grinned at him and squeezed his hand while he blushed.

"But, why?" asked Hermione. "I know it looks impressive. But, what's the purpose?"

"Part of the purpose, Hermione," she replied. "Is that it'll make you look very powerful, magically. So, if someone starts getting - uppity - with you. You can make them back off in a lot of cases just by flaring your magic like that. It makes people believe you're a lot more powerful than you actually are."

"_I'll_ say," said Tracey, looking quite stunned at her best friend. "It looks quite scary. I'd _definitely_ not want to face off against someone that can do _that_."

"So it's like a pufferfish inflating itself to make it look bigger than it's predator?" asked Hermione.

"Exactly!" said Harry, firmly. "It also appears to be something you can do that - an aggressor won't realise is just you being a pufferfish. It will make them think you're a lot more magically powerful than you are.

"The idea is to stop an aggressor - an attacker - before they even _think_ of attacking you. If you do that as soon as they become aggressive towards you, I'm hoping it'll make them reconsider actually attacking you in the first place."

"However," said Daphne. "It's pretty much a useless talent if everyone knows about it. Once it gets known it's a - pufferfish, as you put it - no one's going to believe you're magically powerful any more. If it gets out, it can do more harm than good."

"So, do you want to learn how to do this?" asked Harry.

He received five grins right back.

"Alright," he said, "I think it's best if I do this one person at a time."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Within an hour Harry had taught the other five how to flare their magic, and said, "Now, you all need to practice 'overflowing' your magic like that. However, always remember it's a very tiring thing to do. The more often you practice it, the longer you should be able to do it.

"Just don't - overextend yourselves. I'd hate to see someone finding themselves carted off to the hospital wing due to magical exhaustion, or whatever it is that makes us tired after trying it."

"Further," said Daphne. "It would be best not to do it in public unless you know you're about to be attacked. It may give it away earlier than we want if you do."

"You're suggesting we come up here to practice it?" asked Tracey.

"I've been practicing in my bed at night," replied Daphne. "But coming up here sounds like a better idea."

"You can use the etiquette club meeting room, too; if you like," suggested Harry. "Everyone knows the password, right?"

He received nods in response, even from those who were making another try at flaring their magic.

"But, this is nicer," replied Hannah. "Even if it _is_ a longer walk."

"Not if you use that secret passageway," smirked Harry.

"We could," replied Susan. "But it's dangerous for us to be down there alone. Our housemates told us not to get too close to the Slytherin common room, lest we be attacked by Slytherins."

Tracey shook her head and said, "I don't think you two will find that problem. Only from the older years, if at all. Everyone else is afraid of Harry and they know of your close friendship with him. They won't dare attack either of you, else they - feel his wrath."

Surprised, Harry asked, "Really?"

Tracey laughed and said, "After what you did and said at the feast? _Merlin_, yes!"

"Daphne wasn't the only one to notice the magic rolling off you in waves and swirling about you," said Neville. "It was damned scary how much power you _seemed_ to be just barely controlling. Even the Professors were a little fearful of you. You didn't notice no one verbally, physically or magically tried to stop you?"

"No," sighed Harry. "It did not occur to me..."

"At least now _we_ know the truth of it," said Susan.

"Yes," said Daphne. "But you still need to remember, Harry was allowing his magic to overflow for quite some time that night. That, alone, means he's actually quite powerful. We just don't know _how_ powerful yet."

"I hope it won't make you fear me," said Harry, not a little concerned.

"Never!" said Daphne with a firm smile and a hug.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

That morning Harry had also convinced the others to take a look at the 'banned' third floor corridor 'on the left'.

"That seems quite the odd description of the corridor," said Harry. "I would have thought he'd say the third floor corridor in the east wing, or something like that."

"How are we going to sneak in there to take a look?" ask Hermione.

"Sneak?" asked Harry. "Why on _earth_ would we need to 'sneak'?"

"But, it's forbidden!" exclaimed Hermione.

"No, it's not," said Harry.

"The Headmaster's remarks were that we were to stay out of it unless we wanted to die a horrible death," said Daphne. "So, it's quite alright to go there if that's what sort of death we actually want, right?"

Frowning, Hermione was at a loss for words for a few moments. "But, I doubt that's what he meant."

"Too bad!" smiled Harry, to take the sting out of it. "The man is a master politician, for Merlin's sake. He _knows_ how to choose his words. He can't now say he misspoke. It just makes him look like an idiot."

So, straight after lunch, The Seven, bold as brass, simply walked up to the third floor and into the corridor 'on the left'. They simply walked down the corridor checking each room as they passed. The rooms appeared to be another set of common rooms and dormitories. For which house, they didn't know.

Walking in to one room that was clearly full of dust and hadn't been cleaned in they didn't know how long, Harry indicated quite the number of different sized footprints across the room and to another door.

Harry went to open the door and found it wouldn't budge. "It's locked," he said.

Quick as a flash, Hermione had her wand out and, with a twirl and swish, cast "Alohomora!"

Harry grinned and said, "Nice." He opened the door and, seeing it was dark within, drew his own wand and cast, "Lumos!"

Harry found himself staring at the middle head of a giant Cerberus. The Cerberus was staring right back with all three heads and started to growl in a weird form of harmony.

"Yikes!" he exclaimed. The other six agreed with his expression.

He pulled the door shut and cast "Finite!" to allow the door to relock itself.

"Well, at least we know what was going to deal us that painful death," said Susan, ever the pragmatist.

"Why would anyone want to put a Cerberus in a room inside the castle?" asked Tracey.

"Cerberuses are used as guard dogs in the wizarding world in other parts of the world," said Neville. "I'd say it's guarding something."

None of them heard the sound of two other students enter the room and quietly walk towards them. Until...

"Well, well, brother dear," said one of the Weasley twins, startling the group.

"It appears we have a group of firsties..." said the other.

"... coming to find out the big secret... "

"... the Headmaster is hiding... "

"... under the Cerberus."

"Okay, that's just plain creepy," said Tracey, never really one to mince words.

Both grinned and, in almost perfect sync, said "Thank you," and bowed.

"Clearly you two have been here before," said Harry.

"Of course!" said one.

"A few times," said the other.

"Alright, spill!" said Harry.

The twins glanced at each other before one said, "Below the Cerberus..."

"... is a trapdoor leading down to..."

"... a giant Devil's Snare!"

"... beyond that and through a door ..."

"... you come to a room full of flying keys... "

"... and a couple of brooms."

"We don't know what's beyond that yet," they said together.

"It's like watching a tennis match," said Hermione in awe.

"I know!" exclaimed Harry.

"How do you _do_ that?" asked Susan of the twins. "It must be some kind of passive mind link between you."

"We don't know," said one.

"We just _do_," said the other.

"It's magic!" they said together.

"And how do you get past the Cerberus?" asked Daphne, trying to get things back on track.

"Music soothes..."

"... the savage beast."

"And the Devil's Snare?" she asked.

"You can burn it out..."

"But that would destroy the trap."

"We just use the Solar Light Charm..."

"... _Lumos Solem_, to make it back away."

"It's not so much a block to stop anyone getting through. After all, you could cast wards to block students out," said Harry, musing. "It's more like a series of challenges."

"And, as the Headmaster didn't say no one was to come here, it's obviously a competition of sorts," said Daphne.

"A dangerous one, at that," said Hermione. "You can be killed by either the Cerberus or the Devil's Snare, if you didn't know what you were doing. And that takes no account of whatever is behind the keys. Probably more dangerous traps or puzzles."

"Well," said Harry with a bit of a sigh. "We came, we saw, we were unimpressed."

"Homework, now?" asked Hermione.

The others of The Seven grinned in response.

Tracey said, "Sure. Why not."

"Library in ten?" asked Susan.

Tracey replied, "Again, why not."

As they were walking back out of the room the caretaker, Argus Filch, walked in with his pet cat, Missus Norris, at his heels.

"Ah! See here, my pet?" he smirked. "Children out of bounds in the forbidden area."

"What are you on about, Mister Filch?" asked Harry walking up to him; the others, following.

"You're in the third floor corridor on the left, and it is forbidden for you to be here," he continued to smirk.

"Rubbish!" snapped Harry. "Who told you that nonsense?"

Taken aback by the response, Filch said, "The Headmaster announced it the evening after the Sorting. You know this!"

"He did no such thing," said Daphne. "He said, and I quote, 'Stay out of the third floor corridor on the left unless you wish to die a most horrible death'. So, by his own words, if someone wants to die by such a death, they're more than welcome to be here. Is that not so?"

"That's not what he meant!" snapped Filch.

"And yet, that's what he said," she snapped right back.

The caretaker just stood there staring back, a little confused.

"There you have it, Mister Filch," said Harry. "As the lady said, we are not anywhere that is forbidden as you erroneously believe; we have not broken any rules; and you are currently blocking our exit. Please, step aside."

With a growl of anger, the caretaker glared back at Harry before spinning on his heel and storming from the room. "Come, my pet!" he growled. "We shall talk to the Headmaster about this."

As the caretaker, closely followed by his ugly pet cat, left and stormed up the corridor back towards the grand staircase, the Seven and the twins more slowly followed.

One of the twins came forward as they were walking and said, "Ickle Harrikins! That was a brilliant piece of deductive reasoning..."

"Just so, old chap!" said the other.

Harry just shook his head in response and kept walking.

As they reached the grand staircase, the twins continued up it. Harry was about to follow when he turned to the others and asked, "Ten minutes?"

"Ten minutes," replied Daphne as she was heading down.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At lunch, both Harry and Daphne received summonses to the Headmaster's office. With a sigh he crumpled the note and placed it in his robes.

"Here we go again," he said to the others.

"Another summons from the great and _oh_-so wonderful Headmaster?" asked Neville.

"Neville!" cried Hermione. "Show respect."

"He, is, Hermione," said Harry. "Respect can be lost even faster than it is earned. The Headmaster has lost any respect most of us have for him. Ergo, Neville is showing the proper amount of respect for the man."

"But, he's still the Headmaster," said Hermione.

Harry just snorted in response. "Only because I fear there is not _yet_ enough evidence to fire him. And only because he made sure he wasn't using his authority _as Headmaster_ when he decided to interfere with my life."

"Oh!" she replied meekly.

"Hermione," said Harry, almost tenderly. "Power corrupts..."

"... and absolute power corrupts absolutely," she finished.

"Precisely," he replied with a smile.

Again, escorted by Professor Flitwick to the Headmaster's office, Harry was beginning to think _he_ should be Headmaster considering how many times, compared to any other student, he was in the office. With a smirk towards Daphne, Harry pulled his spectacles from his pocket and donned them. Daphne quickly copied him. He then used his wand to cast the Eye Twinkle cantrip on them both.

Again, he allowed Daphne and the small professor to enter the room before him. And, again, he approached the Headmaster's desk with his betrothed on his arm. And, again, there was only one chair sitting before the desk. None of the three chose to sit in it.

Professor Snape was in his usual spot. This time, Mr Filch was also present with his pet cat in his arms. He was whispering quietly to the cat while glaring at the two pre-teens.

Harry decided to play it different this time.

"Ah! Harry, my boy!" welcomed Dumbledore.

"Ah! Albus, my unwanted and unwelcomed stalker!" Harry snapped back with his own eyes twinkling and a mock-jovial voice.

That jolted the old man in his seat before he exclaimed, "Harry!"

"Albus!" Harry exclaimed right back.

Dumbledore did his over-acted collapse in on himself of great disappointment. "I'm so disappointed in you, Harry."

Harry sniggered and said, "You know, Albus; that whole act may fool a lot of people, but not me."

That was it for Snape. He snarled, "Potter! You're an arrogant brat; just like your father."

Wearing a stone-like mask as a shield, Harry said right back, "You will watch your tone and language with me, Snape. My guardians have _not yet_ decided their punishment for you. And they _will_ be informed of this latest behaviour." He then sneered back before turning back to the Headmaster.

Snape huffed up, turned a little paler than usual, but shut up.

Sitting a little straighter, Dumbledore looked sad. Ignoring the jibe he said, "Harry; Miss Greengrass; I have summoned you here, this afternoon, as I have received a disturbing report from Caretaker Filch that he found you and your friends in the third floor corridor on the left, earlier today.

"I thought I made myself quiet clear that students were not allowed in that corridor, Harry."

"Really?" asked Harry, putting on a blatant act of surprise. "Gee-whiz! Whenever did you do that?"

"It was the day after the sorting, Mister Potter - Oh, you were not here on the day after the sorting, were you?"

Harry didn't even bother to verbally respond. He merely smirked and cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes, well," said Dumbledore. "Nevertheless, Miss Greengrass is well aware it is forbidden..."

"No, Headmaster," she interrupted. "I am not."

Surprised, he said, "I thought I made it quite clear in my address to the students after the evening meal, Miss Greengrass, that the third floor corridor was forbidden to all students to enter."

"No, Headmaster, you did not," she softly corrected. "Your exact remarks were, 'The third floor corridor on the left is out of bounds to all students who do not wish to die a horrible death'. As such, and by your own words, you stated it is _not_ out of bounds to any student who actually _seeks_ that form of death'. Is that not the case?"

Both pre-teens heard Professor Flitwick chuckle behind them while Dumbledore looked at her in shock.

"You have to admit, Headmaster," said the little professor dryly, "She has a point."

In a glance at Professor Snape, Harry detected the hint of a smirk he was trying to suppress. And, was that an expression of pride in his Slytherin student of which he saw a hint?

Clearly flustered, Dumbledore said, "Yes. Well. Errr - I see that I will have to address the student body, this evening, and make my - decision in this matter much more explicit."

"That would be wise, I think, Albus," said Harry. "You may also want to tell the few who until now don't know that it's a Cerberus that awaits them behind a simple locked door, easily opened by a First Year Charm, the _Alohomora_, that it actually _is_ a Cerberus. Or, that it's name is 'Fluffy'.

"Or that, if they get past the Cerberus through simply starting a music box in it's presence - and, thus, lulling it to sleep - they may be killed by the giant Devil's Snare that awaits them next.

"I cannot determine how the flying keys may harm them, but, still..." with a throwaway gesture, he said, "What am I saying? Of _course_, you _know_ all the traps and puzzles that await those who enter. You don't need _me_ reminding you of them.

"But the student body is going to be most disappointed they're not allowed to go there anymore. There are some who think it's all been set up for their amusement. I think there may even be a betting pool among some of them as to who can reach the end of the traps and puzzles first."

Looking at Dumbledore with an expression of mild interest on his face, Harry could see the old man was shocked to his very core.

"Others?" he quietly asked in an almost squeaky voice.

With a mock frown, Daphne replied, "Surely you jest, Headmaster. After all, it only requires you to look down at the floor in the room of the locked door to see just how many footprints of all different sizes there are in the dust upon said floor."

Pushing the proverbial knife in even further, Harry mock-mused and said, "Hmm - I'm actually surprised no one has thought it might be just a bit _too_ dangerous to students to have those things in the castle and decided to contact Aunty Amelia - sorry, Madam Bones - or the Board of Governors, and made a formal complaint to either office."

Dumbledore's face was ashen. Harry was beginning to wonder if they'd pushed him just that little bit too far and the old man was going to have a heart attack on the spot.

He gestured a wave-off motion towards them, while his mind was obviously on other matters, and quietly said, "Very well. Thank you. You may go."

Once they were out past the gargoyle and a little ways down the hallway, Professor Flitwick burst out laughing and they had to stop.

Harry and Daphne were both amused to see the little professor bent at the waist with his hands on his knees uncontrollably laughing his head off.

"Dear Professor," said Daphne, sweetly. "Has some miscreant hit you with a Tickling Jinx?"

That tipped the professor right over then, almost literally. He collapsed onto his butt and fell over onto his back. He was laughing so hard he had tears in his eyes.

After a few moments, he was able to regain control of himself and, with Harry's help, climb back to his feet.

"You two!" he gasped, still trying to regain his breath, "Are the _best_ thing that's happened to this school in a _long_ time!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	26. Homeward

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Six - Homeward**

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Professor McGonagall had just set aside the last of her OWL Year students' submitted assignments and was thinking of moving on to the First Year assignments when her wards alerted her to her friend and colleague, Filius Flitwick, standing at her door.

She rose from her seat, walked over to the door and saw him standing there.

He had his small, shrunken crate she knew he carried his portable pensieve within under one arm, while he carried a bottle of Ogden's Finest in the other. He was also sporting a large grin.

"Filius?" she asked.

"I thought, tonight, I'd supply both the entertainment _and_ the libations, dear Minerva," he said.

"This is about Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass being summoned by Albus again?"

With his grin widening even further, the small professor simply nodded.

With a grin of her own, something very few people ever see, she said, "Then, you'd best come in."

About half an hour later, she snatched her face out of the pensieve with a burst of laughter. Though he had lived the experience, it still made Professor Flitwick laugh along with her.

While Professor McGonagall was trying to calm herself down, the little professor was shakily trying to pour two glasses of Old Ogden's Finest into the glasses earlier provided by her. Neither cared that he'd managed to spill some onto the desk as he was pouring.

The two then sat back just after Professor Flitwick vanished the spilled mess. A glass in each's hand.

"Oh, _Merlin_!" said Professor McGonagall, still trying to stifle her laughter. "I don't know why Albus keeps trying. That boy has him on the back foot as soon as he steps into the room."

"And Miss Greengrass is now _also_ taking an active part in keeping him there!" said Professor Flitwick.

"But, what was with the spectacles?" she asked.

"They're charmed," he replied. "I suspect they both know the Headmaster and Severus are Legilimencers and they're charmed to repel that sort of intrusion."

"Did you see the expression on Severus's face when Miss Greengrass made that comment about Albus's announcement?" she asked. "It looked like he couldn't have been prouder of her, one moment, and annoyed about it the next. The poor man was conflicted!"

Nodding, he replied, "But when they started into describing the various traps, I thought our beloved Headmaster was going to either faint or soil himself, or both."

"And then to mention the possibility of a betting pool among the students?" she asked. "I believe I shall be speaking with a matching pair of my young lions tomorrow. If there's anyone who'll know of it's existence or not, it's those two."

"You think he may have lied?" he asked.

"Certainly not," she said. "All he said was, 'I _think_ there _may_ be...', nothing more that that. He let Albus jump to his own conclusions."

"Still, it is concerning he was able to describe the traps in detail," he said. "That means the students know more than enough to be worrisome."

"Agreed," she replied with a small sigh. "I believe it's time Albus returned that little trinket back to it's rightful owner. It is clear it provides _too_ great a risk to the students to be kept here any longer."

"I agree," he said. "Those traps need to be dismantled, post haste."

Not too long later Professor Flitwick had just finished packing away his pensieve and chuckling a little to himself when Professor McGonagall asked in a sweet, girly voice, "Dear professor, has some miscreant hit you with a Tickling Jinx?"

That set both of them off again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A week later, Harry was again summoned to the Headmaster's office. Again, he was accompanied by both Daphne and Professor Flitwick.

Just as with the last time they ascended the spiral staircase beyond the gargoyle, both pre-teens donned their spectacles. Professor Flitwick watched them with amusement. Harry just grinned and winked at him.

As they entered, Harry said, "Now, I'm not too fond of the decor, mind. After all, I'll have to put up with all the portraits of past Headmasters hanging on the walls..."

"Ah, Harry; Miss Greengrass;" interrupted Dumbledore. "Welcome."

Turning to look at Dumbledore, as they were walking towards him, Harry mock-exclaimed, "Albus! Fancy meeting you here! This _is_ a pleasant surprise!" Turning to Snape, as always perched on a stool in the corner, "And Potions Master Snape. You're looking good, my man. Have you been exercising? It looks good on you."

Harry watched as Snape's expression passed through shock to anger to annoyance while he heard Professor Flitwick lightly snicker behind them.

Stepping up to the twin wooden chairs, Harry - who had been practicing quite a bit for these meetings - reconfigured them into a higher love seat, replete with the Crest of House Potter centred high in the velvet upholstery of the back rest. He was actually quite pleased with how it turned out.

"Now, Albus, I'm glad you're here," said Harry. "I've been looking forward to our little chat about the property of House Potter you've _still_ not returned, you naughty man."

While guiding Daphne to a seat upon the loveseat he carefully glanced at Dumbledore and saw the look of shock on his face at the advanced transfiguration he'd performed. Taking seat himself, he said, "I must say, Albus, I've charged the goblins at Gringotts with immediately contacting me as my property is returned so we can put this _horrid_ business behind us. And, yet..."

Harry immediately gazed upon Dumbledore, and gave a big dramatic sigh with a slight slow shake of his head. "I'm quite disappointed in you, Albus, that not _one_ item has yet been returned." *Tsk, tsk, tsk* "Honestly! I thought better of you than this. I may not like you but I thought better of you than to find you resorting to common thievery."

Stuttering, the old man replied, "Now, Harry, there were a few items loaned to me by your father. Clearly, he wanted me to have those items..."

"And, after my father was killed," interrupted Harry, "It behooved you to immediately return those items. You have yet to do that. And my patience with you is wearing quite thin, on this matter."

"It - would help me if you were to make clear to me just which items I'm _supposed_ to have borrowed..." the old man tried.

"_All_ of them, Albus," said Harry; again, cutting him off.

"_All_ property in your possession that rightfully belongs to House Potter, including all property you may have given to others for whatever reason in the meantime, is to be returned," Harry stated firmly. "I shall be generous and allow you until Christmas Day to carry out this _small_ task."

"And if I am unable to determine what I hold that, as you put it, rightfully belongs to House Potter?" asked Dumbledore carefully.

"As you're a master Occlumens, I suggest you review your memories. From them I have confidence you will recall what you have. I do not wish to take steps to see you _forced_ to return them, or have them taken from you," replied Harry matter-of-factly. "I've been _more_ than generous with you in the time I'm giving you to comply, Albus."

With another attempt of his own disappointed grandfather look, Dumbledore said, "There are items your father gave to me for safekeeping, Harry. I believe your father would be disappointed with you if you continue with this behaviour towards me."

With his own disappointed sigh, Harry replied, "Alas, we will never know, as he is dead. And, as he is dead, his - loan - of items to you has ended. I may have been willing to continue to loan you certain items, Albus, if you hadn't dumped me on the doorstep of the Dursleys and actually placed me with my rightful guardians. However," he sighed, "I instead find myself actually hating you. So, why on earth would I even be willing to _consider_ loaning you even so much as a bookmark of my personal property?"

"Come now, Headmaster," said Daphne, cutting in. "You know the law is on Harry's side here. There's no need for you to be so recalcitrant. It avails you nothing and will only see you in further difficulties with the goblins and the DMLE."

Instead of arguing further, Dumbledore gestured a wave-off motion towards them, while his mind was obviously on other matters, and quietly said, "Very well. Thank you. You may go."

"Why, thank you, Albus," said Harry. "I guess I can make use of this extra time I'm graciously providing you in writing the article for the Daily Prophet I foresee I may need post Christmas Day."

As he rose and offered his arm to Daphne, he said to her, "What do you think of the headline 'Headmaster Steals from Boy-Who-Lived', my love?"

"I think 'Dumbledore Steals from Hero of Magical Britain' sounds better, darling," replied Daphne.

With a bit of a shrug, Harry took her arm in his elbow and began to escort her from the room; calm as you please. Just before he passed through the door he said, "I look forward to our next meeting, Albus, when you'll be informing me you've finally _dutifully_ returned my property. I'd hate to up our agreed upon timetable."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"What was that about property belonging to House Potter?" asked Professor McGonagall.

As with the previous week, she found the Charms Master at her door with his pensieve and a bottle of Old Ogden's Finest. She had quickly ushered him inside.

"I believe Dumbledore may have in his possession items that he really shouldn't have," said the little professor carefully. "I noticed, once, that the pensieve he has bears the Potter Crest."

"Yes," she said. "James loaned it to him - Oh, of course. It should have been returned on James's death, and wasn't."

"Which makes me wonder what else the Headmaster has that should have been returned," he said. "Clearly, Mister Potter is well aware of at least _some_ of what was - borrowed."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Coming down the stairs from his dorm, Harry noticed a number of students clustered around the notice board.

'Clearly something new has arisen,' he thought to himself. "What's going on?" he asked in general.

One of the Second Years, Eddie Carmichael, turned about and said, "The notice requesting a list of all those staying in the castle over Christmas has just been posted. Personally, I much prefer to be home with family during this time."

"People actually _want_ to stay here over Christmas?" asked Harry.

"Yeah, there's always a few," replied Carmichael. "Some people don't have the best home life, you know?" He immediately blushed and looked down. "Sorry, Potter," he muttered.

"That's quite alright, Mister Carmichael," replied Harry. "I, at least, have a new home to go to now. _That_ part of my life is done with."

No one, now, was unaware of Harry's life with the Dursleys. Everyone knew what he meant by '_that_'.

"Soooo, where are you planning on staying?" the Second Year asked, hoping to quickly change the subject.

"I'll be spending some time at Greengrass Estate with Miss Greengrass and her family," he replied. "But I also want to be staying, or visiting, with a few other people dear to my family for short periods of time.

"Then, there's also a bit of family business I need to take care of at Gringotts that I cannot put off, so I'll probably stay that night at my Mum's old place. It's pretty much up in the air, at the moment."

"Well, don't forget there's Christmas shopping to get out of the way," the boy said. "What is it? Only two weeks until the Hogwarts Express. And then, only _one_ full day between when we arrive at Kings Cross Station and Christmas Day?"

"Urrgh!" groaned Harry. "Don't remind me! Diagon Alley is going to be _packed_ on that day."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the Wednesday afternoon before leaving the castle for Christmas, Dumbledore asked Harry to remain after DADA class. Daphne and Tracey also remained.

"Ah, Harry, I only needed to speak with you about this matter," said Dumbledore. "Your two lady companions may leave."

"Thank you, Albus," Harry simply replied, doing nothing else.

Neither Tracey nor Daphne so much as moved in their seats.

Dumbledore appeared to be waiting for them to leave, looking a little pleased. However, when neither girl moved, his face dropped into a frown.

"Ladies, you may go," he said.

"Thank you, Headmaster," they both said. And neither moved.

With his frown deepening, he said, "I am not accustomed to my instructions being ignored, ladies."

When neither said anything, he asked, "Why are you not leaving?"

"I, for one, Professor, am waiting for my betrothed," said Daphne.

"And, I am waiting for my friend," said Tracey.

"I wish to speak with Mister Potter in private, ladies," he scowled.

"_That_ will never happen, Professor," replied Daphne flatly. "Either I will be present at all times, Professor Flitwick will be present as his Head of House, or we both will."

Still scowling, he turned to Harry and asked, "Do you wish others to be present when I am discussing with you _private_ matters, Harry?"

"Always, Albus," replied Harry.

Scowling for a moment later, the old man tried his disappointed grandfather routine. "Very well," he said.

Looking back up at Harry he said, "I was surprised to discover you will not be staying in the castle over Christmas, Harry."

As it wasn't a question, just as with the girls before him, Harry didn't respond. He just adopted a mien of curiosity.

When Harry clearly wasn't going to respond, Dumbledore said, "I take it, then, you will be returning to stay with your family over the Christmas break?"

"Yes, Professor," he replied.

Surprised, Dumbledore said, "I find myself surprised, but quite pleased, you have forgiven your aunt enough to return to - her home."

Harry didn't bother to correct the old man. If he believed that, that was his problem.

When he realised he'd hear no further, Dumbledore sighed and said, "Very well, you may go."

Outside in the hallway, Tracey asked, "Why didn't you tell him you're not going back to _that_ place?"

"He didn't _ask_ if I was," replied Harry. "He assumed a falsehood. That's _his_ problem."

"And it is not the business of the staff of Hogwarts where the students spend their Christmas break," said Daphne. "They only need to be aware that a student has left on the Express at the beginning of it, and returned on it when the break has concluded."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry stood waiting in the Entrance Hall with Hermione and Neville. They were waiting for Daphne, Tracey, Susan and Neville to join them from out of the dungeons.

"I'm _soooo_ looking forward to seeing my parents, again," said Hermione. Looking at Harry, she asked, "I told you my parents and I are visiting Greengrass Estate, right?"

"Yes, Hermione; you did," replied Harry.

"Boxing Day," she said, as if she didn't hear. "We're coming over for a little while before we head to my grandma's place.

"I'm looking forward to meeting the rest of your family, Harry," she said. "My parents say Cygnus and Isabel are _wonderful_ people."

"Yes, they are," he replied.

Turning to Neville she asked, "Are you visiting too, Neville?"

"I would say so," he calmly replied.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

_A week earlier:_

Ever since Neville was taken to Diagon Alley to purchase his own wand, the boy was coming out of his self-imposed shell of meekness. Having a wand that matched him - twelve inches of cherry wood with a unicorn hair core - had done wonders for his self-esteem. It also didn't hurt that the girls thought his new wand was 'gorgeous'.

Soon after returning, he met the others in the library where he showed it to them.

Harry said, "You've got me by an inch, Neville. Mine's holly with a phoenix feather core."

Hermione huffed, "Honestly! Boys and their wands!"

That had both boys blushing and sniggering, while the other four girls squealed with laughter. It took Hermione a few moments to realise the implications of what she said.

When she realised, she blushed profusely and covered her face with her hands. "Oh, sorry!" she said, mortified.

In an effort to rescue Hermione, Susan said, "Well, I've heard from a friend that's friends with one of the boys in the Gryffindor First Year boy's dorm, who said Neville's supposed to be - and I quote here - 'hung like a hippogriff'!"

That had all the girls laughing.

Neville, blushing profusely, calmly replied, "Well, I _am_ a _Long_bottom."

That had everyone laughing.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"I'm going to be running around _madly_ tomorrow purchasing Christmas presents," said Hermione. "Honestly, the Christmas break should start _at least_ a week earlier. I have no idea _how_ I'm going to get everything done in time."

"I'm sure you'll manage," said Neville.

"Ah!" exclaimed Harry. "Here they are."

Looking in the same direction as Harry, Hermione and Neville saw the four girls walking up the stairs. Entering the Entrance Hall, they calmly walked over.

Stepping over to Daphne, Harry gently placed a kiss on her cheek. "I was getting worried you were going to be late," he said to her.

"Never going to happen, Potter," she said with a smile.

"Well, now that we're all here," said Neville, "How about we head out to find a carriage?"

"Lets!" said Tracey, talking him by the arm.

A little surprised, Neville dutifully cocked his elbow for her and escorted her outside and down the steps to where students were lined up waiting for carriages.

Harry offered his own elbow to Daphne who naturally placed her hand in it and chased after Neville. The three other girls followed behind.

Disembarking at the station they only had to wait a few moments for their trunks and pet carriers to appear before they collected them and found a compartment on the train. Harry had sent Hedwig to Greengrass Estate earlier so her cage was empty.

Finding a suitable compartment, Harry and Neville manhandled, with the use of Featherweight Charms and levitation, the trunks into the overhead racks. The pet carriers went on the floor under the seats.

With the compartment now considered full, Harry stepped outside and, using a Sticking Charm, stuck a large note to the outside of the door. Stepping back in he closed the door, locked it and cast the Colloportus Charm on the compartment door. "There. Now we shouldn't be bothered."

"What was that?" asked Daphne. "A Notice-Me-Not?"

"No; the Door Sealing Charm, _Colloportus_," replied Harry. "The squelching sound you heard was the wood of the door binding with the wood of the frame. No First Year Unlock Door Charm is going to open that."

"That's quite an advanced Charm, Harry," said Hermione. "What if one of us needs to go to the toilet?"

"Just let me know," he said. "I want it there, for now, so we don't get any rude gits trying to get in here without knocking first."

"I doubt Malfoy will try anything, this trip," said Daphne, from where she was curled up on the seat snuggled into him. "Or Weasley."

"And the note you stuck to the outside of the door?" asked Tracey.

"It says, 'Try Knocking'," said Harry with a smirk.

The ride back was uneventful. If you don't count someone trying to wrench the door open no less than four times. At least for three of them the person then knocked.

Laughing each time, the Seven waited for the knocking. Each time they heard it, Harry removed the Door Sealing Charm and Neville opened it.

It was only during a period while Susan and Hannah disappeared together to go to the toilet did the door get wrenched open while the Sealing Charm was not in place. At that time it was a female Ravenclaw Prefect looking in to make sure everyone was okay.

"Alright," she began, "Who put that super-strong Locking Charm on the door when I came by earlier to check in?"

"I did," said Harry. "And it was a Door _Sealing_ Charm, _Colloportus_ to be exact."

Frowning at him she asked, "And how, in Merlin's name, does a First Year know how to cast the Door Sealing Charm?"

"Hey," said Harry, slightly offended. "Ravenclaw here, remember? I read about it and practiced it."

"And just why would a First Year, even if they _are_ a Ravenclaw, want to practice the Door Sealing Charm?" she asked suspiciously.

"So we don't get bothered while riding the Hogwarts Express, is one reason," he calmly replied.

She looked at him for a while more before she said, "Well, Prefects need to be able to check on the students while they're doing their patrols."

Daphne, getting a little miffed with the girl, snarkily asked, "See the note on the door?"

The girl pulled her head out for a moment and read the note before turning to look back in again. Understanding writ upon her face.

"Try _that_!" snapped Daphne.

"_Watch_ your tongue," the girl, a little haughtily, said. "I'm _still_ a Prefect."

As Harry was enjoying watching Daphne cut the girl down, Susan and Hannah returned from the loo.

"_Excuse_ us!" said Susan, butting in.

The Prefect, only just then noticing the two girls trying to get in, backed off to let them pass.

"Just leave the door unlocked so we can check on you if we need to," said the girl, sticking her head back in.

No one bothered to say anything back, just hoping she'd go away.

She did a few moments later with an angry scowl.

As soon as she was gone, Neville pulled the door shut and locked it. And Harry cast the Door Sealing Charm on it.

"I thought she'd _never_ leave," said Tracey.

That caused the others, including herself, to laugh in response.

As mid-afternoon approached and the countryside outside the window gave way to suburbs, the Seven began to get ready to disembark the train.

By the time the announcement of 'Five minutes to Kings Cross' was heard, they were all ready well beforehand.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As Neville and Harry lifted the trunks down off the overheads, ladies first, the girls were dragging them outside.

When both boys had theirs down Neville led Harry out of the compartment. As he passed through the door, Harry let go of his trunk and cancelled the Sticking Charm on the note. As it fell away, he grabbed it and stuffed it into his pocket.

Dragging his trunk off the train he levitated it and was about to walk away when the same female Prefect from earlier stopped him.

"I thought I told you to leave that compartment door open," she glared.

"You did," he replied. "I remember it quite well."

"Then why didn't you?" she scowled.

"Because we decided to ignore your - request," he replied.

"I could deduct points off you, you know," she said.

"Of course, you can!" he calmly replied. "But, from which House? All four Houses were represented in that compartment. If you decided to take points off all four Houses, which you would have been obliged to do, then you really wouldn't have accomplished anything, would you?"

She continued to scowl at him while he watched her try to parse that one out.

After a few moments he saw her scowl deepen before she spun about and stormed off. Harry just grinned after her.

Trailing his trunk behind him, Harry walked apart from the train. His friends and family were waiting for him against the back wall of the platform.

"What was that about?" asked Cygnus with a flick of his chin towards the Ravenclaw Prefect, while Harry was getting a hug from Sirius and Isabel.

"She's a Prefect and wanted to have a go at me for sealing the door of the compartment after she told me not to," he replied. "However, she was overstepping her authority when she did it, so we chose to ignore her - request.

"She threatened me with taking House points off us for having the door sealed after her telling us not to. When I told her we represented all four Houses, and that taking points off us all would have been pointless, if you'll pardon the pun, she left a little upset."

Cygnus grinned and said, "That must have been hard for her to take."

"She's a Ravenclaw," said Harry with a shrug. "She's going to be trying to work that one out right through Christmas."

"Now why didn't we think of having mixed compartments when we rode the Express?" asked Sirius, musing.

"Because you would never have sat with a Slytherin," replied Isabel in a matter-of-fact voice.

Sirius just grinned.

"I have to go out and find my parents," said Hermione, butting in. "If I don't see you folks over the Christmas break I look forward to seeing you back here on the eighth."

"Hold your horses, Miss Granger," said Isabel. "We're coming out through the barrier, too."

Meanwhile, Harry had managed to place his trunk on the top of one of the trolleys the adults had brought in. It was on top of someone else's trunk but he felt he could manoeuvre it on his own. Hedwig's cage went on top.

As Harry was finishing up loading things, Astoria came forward and softly said, "Hello Harry."

"Tori!" exclaimed Harry happily. "My, my..." he softly said towards her before turning to Cygnus.

He asked, "Cygnus? Why are you not carrying a big stick?"

A little confused, Cygnus asked, "And why would I do that?"

"Why, to beat off all the boys who would _dare_ to come sniffing around this vision of loveliness, of course!" replied Harry, as if stating the obvious and gesturing towards Astoria.

He didn't see Daphne roll her eyes towards her mother, or Isabel trying to smother her giggles in response.

"Ooooh!" squealed Astoria before grapple-hugging him.

Cygnus chuckled whiled Sirius said, "Damn, pup! I think I'm going to need to take notes!" To which he received a smack on the arm from Isabel.

"Hush, you!" she tried to sternly say.

Sirius just impudently grinned back.

Susan and Hannah left with Hannah's mum while Tracey left with her father and Neville left with Gran. The first two via portkey and Neville via side-along apparating. They'd see them in a few days at most, so parting was not that much of a big deal.

"Alright," said Cygnus. "I guess we're what's left and we're all here. How about we head out?"

With physical and verbal nods the group made their way out through the magical barrier.

Not too far out the other side, Hermione almost immediately saw her parents and, with a squeal, she rapidly pushed her trolley towards them. Letting it go and ducking out from behind it, she dashed the last few steps to envelop both parents in one of her unpatented grapple-hugs.

That gave the others time to casually walk over.

Introductions were left to Isabel to start. "Dear," she said, making sure her husband was paying attention. "This is Doctor Wendell and Doctor Monica Granger, Hermione's parents. Wendell. Monica. This is my husband, Lord Cygnus Greengrass."

"Cygnus, will do," said Cygnus stepping forward to shake Wendell's hand, before leaning forward and lightly kissing the back of Monica's hand.

"And it's Wendell and Monica for us," said Wendell.

"Thank you," said Cygnus, stepping back. He then said, indicating each in turn, "And I introduce: my eldest, Daphne; her betrothed, Harry Potter; my youngest, Astoria; and Lord Sirius Black, Harry's godfather.

Harry stepped forward and copied Cygnus's actions, shaking Wendell's hand and lightly kissing the back of Monica's hand; followed by Sirius doing the same, also telling them to call him Sirius.

"Betrothed?" asked Monica.

"Yes - umm," tried Cygnus actually blushing a little, before Isabel lightly laughed and said, "Cygnus and his friend, James - Harry's father - managed to get themselves drunk soon after Harry's birth and - the next morning they found they had both signed a non-breakable betrothal contract between Daphne and Harry."

"It - can't be broken?" asked Monica, a little alarmed.

"No," replied Cygnus. "It's a magical contract and was signed in blood."

Monica looked a little horrified and Wendell showed concern.

"It's okay, Ma'am," said Harry, speaking up before things could get out of hand. "I think I speak for both Daphne and I when I say we're actually now quite happy with it."

Daphne nodded and gave Harry a kiss on the cheek.

"However," said Harry lowering his voice slightly. "My _dear_ godfather, now that he has recovered from his recent troubles, is in _deep_ trouble about it."

"Awww! Pup!" whined Sirius. "You're not _really_ going to hold your dear godfather guilty about this, are you?"

"And I believe that's a long discussion best left until Boxing Day," said Isabel, cutting in. "It will take some explaining to fully understand."

The Grangers nodded.

"And, I think it's nigh time we went back through the barrier to portkey away from here," said Cygnus. "Wendell. Monica. Nice to finally meet you. And I look forward to you visiting us at Greengrass Estate in three days."

After words of parting the Grangers left to exit the station out the muggle entrance, while the Greengrasses returned through the barrier to the platform to portkey away.

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	27. Present

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Seven - Presents**

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They arrived in a clutter on the floor in the Entry Hall of Greengrass Estate. That is, Harry landed and immediately fell flat on his bum, while the Greengrasses and Sirius lightly touched down in a slight crouch.

Cygnus looked at Harry with a grin, while Harry climbed to his feet muttering, "I _hate_ magical travel."

"Because of the spin, you need to touch down in the direction of the spin and as if you're running forward," said Cygnus. "You landed backwards and almost stiff legged. That's why you fell back onto your bum."

"Just like Floo travel, Harry," said Isabel. "You just need to practice."

"I'll take the trunks upstairs," he said. "At least I can do _that_ without looking like a twit."

Using featherweight charms Harry first placed one on top of the other before levitating both. While holding them both up he grasped the handle of the bottom one and pulled it with him. He was so focussed on what he was doing, he didn't see the looks of shock on either Cygnus's or Isabel's face.

After Harry left up the stairs, pulling the trunks behind him. Cygnus motioned the rest toward to the parlour.

Once in there, Cygnus turned to Daphne and asked, "How long has he been able to do that?" he asked.

Knowing why her father was so surprised, she said, "Almost from the start. Professors Flitwick and McGonagall keep loaning him advanced Charms and Transfiguration texts and he practically devours them.

"Once he's read them he practices each and every spell. And, once he has both wand movement and incantation correct, he never has to worry about it again; it's learned."

"But he shouldn't have the power..." started Cygnus before he heard Harry coming back down the stairs.

Harry entered and saw Daphne smiling at him while Cygnus, Isabel and Sirius were looking at him a little strangely.

Harry didn't know what was going on.

Daphne reached out and took his hand as he approached and sat beside her.

"Harry, I think we need to show my parents and your godfather that little trick you showed me on Halloween," she said.

"Alright," said Harry. "No secrets from family. Do you want to do it?"

Replying only with a grin in return she turned to her parents and said, "Watch this."

With barely a pause or even loss of eye focus, she began to draw magic into herself. It took only a few moments before Harry literally felt the palpable energy roiling about her. It was making those few small loose items about the room start dancing a little upon what and where they sat.

And, of course, her eyes began to glow a little.

Cygnus, Isabel, Sirius and even little Tori were looking back in awe and not a little fear.

"Oh, wow!" said Tori, first to speak and not understanding what it looked like to her parents. "That's amazing!"

Daphne let her magic ease back down before calmly saying to Tori, "Thank you, Tori."

The three adults were still sitting there quite stunned.

"Ummm.." said Cygnus, before he cleared his throat. "I - did not realise just how powerful you are, Daphne."

Daphne grinned and said, "Wait until you see Harry." Turning to her betrothed, she said, "Alright, Harry; your turn."

Harry grinned and stood up. Then he quickly started pulling ambient magic into himself. Very quickly the air about him began to swirl. His hair began to rustle a little with it.

Everything become much brighter for him. He felt he could almost _see_ magic moving through the room.

He pulled even more in letting it flow through him and overflow in great gushing waves of it.

The area of affect was so wide he could see the hair of all three adults moving about where they sat apart from he and Daphne.

Looking down at his betrothed he watched as her hair moved about, even standing up a little with the charged particles of air.

All the while, Daphne just sat there, quite calmly. But, she was also used to it.

Harry then let it flow back out of him and he let his magic back down to it's normal resting state, and calmly sat down again.

"_Sweet_ Merlin!" exclaimed Sirius. "You - _daaaaaaamn_!"

"How in Merlin's name do you _do_ that?" asked Cygnus.

Harry calmly told them how he had guessed it could be done while he was in hospital after reading _Magical Theory_. He told them how he felt it was a reverse of pushing your magic, and was actually pulling magic in to yourself.

He told them of his belief of how drawing magic in allowed him to cast stronger spells for longer. And how it meant he didn't have to wait anywhere near as long for his magic to 'recharge' if he was approaching magical exhaustion.

He also said it left him tired after he did it for quite some time. And he told them how it had to be kept secret so others did not know they were actually normal on the power scale. It was mainly all for show to make others think they were much more powerful than they really were.

"So, in the same way as you folks probably originally thought we must be the reincarnation of Merlin and Morgana Le Fay, it comes in handy when you want to scare the _bejeezus_ out of a person or people who think of attacking you," said Harry. "It looks impressive as Hell, and it's fun to watch people's reactions to it when we do it, like yours. But, I don't know how useful it will be, or if it's a hindrance, in an actual battle."

"And you can _teach_ this?" asked Isabel, shocked.

Nodding, Harry said, "Yeah. I taught Daphne within a few minutes. Then, a few days later, I taught Neville, Tracey, Susan, Hannah and Hermione. It didn't take me all that long."

Daphne said, "Since then we've all practiced it in private and improved in leaps and bounds. With Harry's help we've all also been practicing doing it while spell casting. As he said, it appears to have improved our abilities to cast. It makes our spells stronger. And we don't tire as easily."

"Again," said Sirius. "_Daaaaamn_!"

"If you like," said Harry, with a grin. "I'll teach you while we're here on break. It won't take long."

He received _four_ answering grins. 'Oh, Tori wants to learn, too, does she?' he thought. 'I'll have to run that past her parents, first.'

"Alright," said Isabel, first to snap out of it. "What do you want to do first?"

"Christmas shopping," said Harry. "If we can get it out of the way this afternoon then we're likely to miss the mad rush that will be tomorrow in that place."

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Floo'ing to The Leaky Cauldron and heading directly into the Alley, Harry, Sirius and the Greengrasses realised Harry was right to beg to do their final Christmas shopping the day the Express arrived. The Alley was packed. It would be even worse the next day, Christmas Eve.

The party weaved their way down to Gringotts first. They were only picking up some extra Galleons, this time. There'd be more than enough time to carry out the rest of his business with the goblins _after_ Christmas, when they weren't so rushed. Besides, his time limit with Dumbledore for the return of property belonging to House Potter expired on Christmas Day. He'd still have to go after Christmas to sic the goblins onto him.

After quickly collecting some gold, the group left Gringotts. They immediately split up with Harry going with Sirius and Astoria while Daphne was with her parents.

As soon as they separated, Harry turned to little Astoria and said, "Now, my fair maiden; I need to buy a gift or two for your sister. I'm placing a lot of trust in you that you will not use the opportunity to tease your sister about the gifts I purchase for her. Are we agreed?"

The youngest Greengrass, who had immediately latched onto Harry's hand when it was decided on the split of the group for shopping, pouted and mock-whined, "Awww, Harry! I was looking forward to that."

"Well, I want your promise you won't," he said. "Otherwise, the gift I purchase for _you_ will be - less. Alright?"

"Alright, Harry," she mumbled.

"Thank you," he said. "Besides, I was hoping you could help me pick out a gift for her and your parents."

That earned him a big grin. "I'll be good; I promise!" she sweetly said.

Looking at his godfather, Harry said, "Jewellers, first; then Ollivander's, I think."

With a smile, Sirius said, "Then lead the way."

After purchasing what he wanted at the Jewellers, and with Sirius's help distracting Astoria while he also purchased something for her, they headed for Ollivander's.

It took some sweet talking of the peculiar old man but Harry was able to purchase what he wanted.

From there it was over to the Owl Emporium to pick up supplies for the owls, and visits to a couple of other places.

They soon met with the others at Fortescues before changing groups.

Harry was with Cygnus and Isabel, while Daphne went with Sirius and Astoria.

This time, the shopping was a lot quicker as he was only needing to purchase something for Sirius. However, he knew Daphne and her group were going to take a little longer.

Harry led his two to Scribbulus Everchanging Inks and the other stationery store, and he had a quick walkthrough memorising the bookshelves in Flourish & Blotts.

Just as many of the shops were closing, they returned to Fortescue's. This time, they were the first to arrive. Sirius brought the two girls a few minutes later.

"Ready to head home, are we?" asked Cygnus.

"_Merlin_, yes!" sighed Sirius. "I hate to see what it's going to be like here tomorrow."

Harry just smiled. He said, "We can always come and a have a look, if you like."

"No, no!" said Sirius, raising both hands in surrender. "I'm good!"

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As soon as they were back at Greengrass Estate, Harry took his purchases up to his room. He'd wrap them later. He needed to get back downstairs as it was planned they'd have an early but leisurely dinner.

Talk around the table had Astoria trying to wheedle out of both Harry and Daphne what they bought her, unsuccessfully. And chit-chat about what the adults and Astoria had been up to while the two older pre-teens were at Hogwarts.

Now that he had his health back, Sirius was working hard to clean up his family London home. He'd also reconnected with his old school friend, Remus 'Moony' Lupin.

"My parents' old home is a mess," he said to Harry. "Their house elf, Kreacher, is possibly insane. He's done nothing to clean the place since Merlin knows when. So, I spend half my time there trying to get _him_ to do his job, and the other half actually doing his job _for_ him."

"I would have thought the Blacks had a Manor out in the country somewhere," said Harry.

"They had one," replied Sirius. "However, old Abraxas Malfoy demanded it as dowry for cousin Cissy. I don't know _what_ Grandfather Arcturus was thinking when he agreed to it. But, speaking with Great Aunt Cassiopeia, he told her the place held too many sad memories for him. Plus, he was pushed into it by my uncle Cygnus, Cissy's father.

"He moved into a smaller place and, on his death and as per his wishes, that place was sold with the monies going into the family vaults. It's a pity he passed only a few months before I was released from Azkaban. I might have been able to convince him to keep it.

"Until I saw the family home in London I would have thought he'd move in there. Even if old 'Warhorse' Walburga, my mother, was still living there. However, as soon as I saw it, I realised why he didn't; and why he never sold it. It would have cost more to clean it up than it was worth. And my mother wasn't the nicest of people to be around."

"So, you've been busy cleaning out the London home all this time?" asked Harry.

"Oh, no," replied Sirius. "I've also been spending quite a bit of time getting the Black finances back into order; learning what I need to be a proper Lord, now that I'm on the Wizengamot; getting back in contact with old friends, at least those who still don't think I'm guilty; and otherwise trying to recover my life."

"I remember your letter of a month or two ago telling me you'd moved back into the family home," said Harry. "Is that the London one?"

"Yes," replied Sirius. "Moony and I have managed to get enough of the house cleaned to make parts of it habitable. But, it's _far_ from done. It's still a dangerous place to be if you don't know what you're doing."

"Then I hope you're being careful," said Harry with concern.

With an answering smile, he replied, "Don't worry, pup. Moony and I know what we're doing."

Isabel then told how she was quite pleased with her research into muggleborn birth rates. And how she was also looking into how and why the parents of many muggleborns were choosing not to allow their children to develop their magical potential.

She happily talked about her developing friendship with the Grangers, especially Monica.

"It's a very good thing you did making friends with that young muggleborn witch, Hermione, you two," she said to Harry and Daphne. "Did you know she's named after a character from a Shakespearean play?"

"I did," replied Harry. "She's a character out of '_The Winter's Tale_'. I asked her once about it and it was a play her parents went to see the night they believed she was conceived."

"I didn't know that," said Daphne, a little surprised.

"Mmm," said Harry with a verbal nod. "It kind of embarrasses her."

"Well, the records from that British Registrar's Office Monica is able to get for me are heaven-sent," said Isabel. "It's making things a lot easier for me to get my report finalised way ahead of my original schedule."

"About Hermione," said Harry. "I was worried about how she was being treated by some of the other students at Hogwarts. There was this one incident -. it does not matter. However, I decided to offer her the opportunity to fall under the protection of House Potter."

"We heard," said Cygnus with a knowing smile. "It was a very Slytherin thing to do, Harry."

Seeing the look on Harry's face of surprised mixed with confusion, Isabel said, "Hermione wrote her parents about it. And Monica asked me what it meant. They're just a little confused as to _why_ you did it."

"Oh," said Harry. "Well, I could see the writing on the wall, so to speak. Many, especially in Slytherin, know they cannot attack me directly. Whether it's about our betrothal, or that I'm supposedly the one that defeated their master, I know they're not happy with me.

"I could see they were starting to figure out the way to hurt me was through my friends. Neville, Tracey, Susan and Hannah are all from Ancient Houses with their own protections; such as House alliances. Hermione, however, was only protected through the bonds of friendship. And that she's a muggleborn was another risk.

"I looked into whether an alliance could be offered to her through her parents, or directly with her. But, as she doesn't belong to a recognised wizarding House, that option was not open to us.

"And that's when I found I could offer her protection _directly_ through the Protection ritual. I'm just glad she accepted.

"For her, the benefits include she's now seen as having all the rights of a pureblood member of an Ancient House; the sign she's a protectee is plain to see on her robes; she can now consider herself to being a lot closer to our social equals in our circle of friends; and it reduces the slurs and verbal attacks she's had to go through until then.

"For me, I get to thumb my nose at the bigots; a close friend of mine is now better protected within our society, especially within Hogwarts, which make me breathe easier; and, more importantly, my friend cannot be treated like chattel or scum by those who'd try to take advantage of her.

"What I don't understand, as none of the books I've read about it are clear on the matter, is what this does regarding her magical guardianship. Nothing was mentioned what happens when the Protectee is an unemancipated minor.

"And, about her magical guardian, all I could find is that her Head of House, Professor McGonagall, _should_ be hers. But I know the Professor has seen the protectee crest and hasn't said anything to either of us about it. Which doesn't make much sense."

"You won't need to worry about that Harry," said Cygnus with a wide grin. "I thought it was such a brilliant idea, for all the reasons you covered, that I'll be offering the protection of House Greengrass to her parents on Boxing Day. And, we'll also be offering to be your friend's magical guardians.

"After all," he said. "I can't let you be the _only_ one who gets to thumb their nose at the bigots."

Harry sat there in shock. That was not something he expected.

Sirius, with a wide grin of his own, leaned over and ruffled Harry's hair. "Brilliant, like your mother; and a great prank on the bigoted gits, which would make your father proud!"

With a slight scowl Harry firmly said, "I didn't do it as a prank, Sirius."

"I know," he simply said. "The great pranks often aren't done as a prank. But they _are_, nevertheless."

_‗_  
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The only Christmas Day Harry had really experienced was while a five month old infant. From then on, until this day, Christmas Day was a day of sadness for him. All he got to do was watch Dudley open his presents and have fun; and he had to act like it was such a great day so Dudley wouldn't be upset there was someone sad near him.

But today - today he was part of a _real_ family. Today he truly got to enjoy.

Having woken early, he lay in bed wondering what he would enjoy more. Would he enjoy opening his own presents more than watching others open presents he bought them? Or, vice versa? Or, would it be more the feeling of being part of something, a family, as everyone enjoyed the day? He didn't know but he was looking forward to finding out.

The night they arrived back on the Hogwarts Express, Harry carefully wrapped the gifts he'd purchased for his family and friends. Hedwig, knowing she would soon by delivering some of them, was watching him carefully from her perch.

At the right moments she was hooting and barking as Harry worked. And, in response, Harry was talking with her.

"So, who first, do you think, Hed?" he asked her. "Shall it be shortest path to each heading out? Or, should I give you one gift at a time to deliver?

She huffed and snuffled in response.

"How about I have you deliver two at a time? That way, it's only a few trips."

Harry pulled out a map of the island he'd purchased from Flourish & Blotts and laid it on the floor.

He carefully mapped the towns where he knew his friends lived. And looked at how Hedwig was likely to fly to each.

"Hmmm.." he said. "Tracey's coming over later in the day; so no need to deliver hers. I could hold off on sending Hermione's as she'll be here on Boxing Day. That leaves Neville, Susan and Hannah."

"How about a single trip with three stops, girl?" he asked.

Hedwig barked and bobbed her head.

With a grin back, he said, "Excellent idea! We shall do that."

Harry then pulled out the gifts for the three and took them over to his desk next to Hedwig's owl perch.

"Okay, Neville at Longbottom Hall under your left wing; Susan at the Ossuary under the right wing; and Hannah at the Refectory on your right ankle," he mused.

He quickly wrapped each gift in a sheet of parchment, wrote the name of the recipient on it in large letters, and shrank it down.

Hedwig hopped down onto the desk and Harry quickly and securely tied the packages to her harness and ankle. He walked over to the window and opened it right up for her.

"'Operation: Ho Ho Ho' is a go, girl!" he grinned.

Hedwig gave three quick hoots and took off out the window.

After watching her fly off for a few moments, Harry quickly closed the window with a grin.

As he was about to turn around, from the direction of the door, he heard Daphne say, "Just how in tune with one another you and Hedwig are, still amazes me."

When he turned to look at the door with the same grin on his face he saw his betrothed leaning against the frame with her arms and legs both crossed. A small smile on her face.

He crossed the room, took her in his arms and gave her a peck on her cheek. "You're lucky you didn't come in here an hour ago when I was still wrapping gifts," he said.

"Oh?" she asked, sinking into his arms.

"Yes. I would have spanked your bottom for you, for attempting to find out what your present is," he gleefully said.

"You _wouldn't_!" she gasped pushing him away.

"I _would_!" he returned. Then he grinned mischievously. "Maybe I should give you a taste of what to expect?"

Daphne took one look at his expression, adopted one of mock horror and took off towards the stairs with a very un-Daphne squeal.

Harry took off in pursuit, trying to laugh maniacally.

But, that was two days ago. Now lying in bed, Harry was wondering when he should get up. He didn't want to seem too eager by getting downstairs too soon; but he also didn't want to be the cause of everyone waiting for him to rise so they could get to the gift-giving part.

He was just about to get up when the bedroom door flew open and a small, brunette haired human missile came hurtling in and leapt up onto Harry's bed with a cry of "_Haaaarrrry!_" and onto him.

"_Ooof!_" he cried, when one of her knees landed in a tender spot.

As Harry was lying on his back, the brunette missile, otherwise known as Astoria, decided to sit astraddle his stomach, grab him by the shoulders, and shake him. "Come _on_!" she cried. "Get up! Get up! Get _uuuuuppp_!"

"_Help!_" he cried out turning his head towards the open door. "_I'm being attacked by a harpy!_"

Tori grabbed his chin in her hand and spun his head to look back at her. "Get out of bed, Mister Potter!" see demanded, glaring at him before grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him again. "I want to open _preeesssseeeeents_!"

"_Alright_!" he cried back.

With a final glare at him, Tori used his stomach as a springboard to climb back off him before then bouncing off the bed to land on her feet beside it.

Harry groaned for a moment and tried to curl into a ball from the abuse to his stomach muscles before he suddenly found the blankets reefed off him.

"_Hey_!" he cried.

"_Get up_!" Tori stamped her foot.

"Alright, _already_!" he grumble-yelled, swinging his feet off the side of the bed.

Tori stood just aways from the bed glaring impatiently at him.

"As soon as I've had my morning shower, I'll..." he tried.

"No!" she stamped her foot. "_Now_!"

She spun away and went to his wardrobe, bringing out a normal working robe. She threw it at him and said, "Just pull that on over your pyjamas!"

"I can _still_ take the gift I bought you back to the shop and get my money back, you know!" he half-snarled back, pulling the robe over his head.

With a gasp she said, "You wouldn't _dare_!"

"Don't _push_ me, young lady!" he said, settling the robes around himself. Mumbling he said, "Now, footwear."

Before he had a chance to do anything, Tori grabbed him by the left hand and literally dragged him out of his room at a near-run towards the stairs. "No time!" she called over her shoulder.

"_Tori!_" tried Harry.

She ignored him and dragged him down the stairs into the parlour where the tree with presents under it were found. Everyone else had already gathered there.

"He's up!" she happily exclaimed to the laughing adults and Daphne.

With a groan, Harry staggered over and collapsed into a loveseat next to Daphne while everyone else was still laughing.

Tori almost bounced across the room and into an armchair, clapping her hands in excitement.

Staring daggers at the clearly excited younger girl, he snarled, "I find myself _pitying_ your future husband."

Tori just poked her tongue out at him with a happy smile on her face.

The adults in the room had clearly been laughing for a while. Harry was even sure he'd heard them while Tori was abusing him earlier.

Chuckling herself, Daphne put her arm around him and kissed him on the cheek. "I'm sorry no one warned you; but, no one gets to sleep in on Christmas day in this family. Tori makes sure of that."

"I was thinking of getting up, anyway," he grumbled. "Just not so - enthusiastically."

Still grinning, Cygnus said, "Now, shall we start with oldest first or..."

"Youngest!" Tori cried out.

"Youngest, it is," replied Cygnus with a grin.

A quick rustle through wrapped presents under the tree and Cygnus handed her the first gift. Harry noticed he didn't even look at the name tag, so he was expecting hers to be first.

He was amused to watch her near-shred the wrapping paper to get to the gift within.

Another reach into the mass of presents and one was passed around to - Harry.

Harry was surprised to find he was receiving a gift so quickly; a set of good quality fine-point quills.

Daphne's was a gift of the same.

Sirius received Harry's first gift to others; a male necklace with three pewter charms hanging from it; a lily flower between a stag and a wolf. By the look on his face, Harry knew he chose right.

As the gifts were passed around for the first round, when he was being passed his second gift he asked Cygnus to pass to Daphne a particular gift. It was a small wrapped box hidden just inside the lower branches of the tree.

Passing it around to Daphne everyone carefully watched; even excited Tori.

Carefully unwrapping it, Daphne found a small, flat, polished wooden box. She opened it and her eyes went wide and her hands shook a little. She sat there staring at the contents.

Harry hopped out of his seat, walked around behind Daphne and reached over her shoulder to the largest item inside the box.

Carefully, drawing it out he held it by it's chain and turned it around so everyone else could see it. It was a beautiful and delicate silver chain with an ornamental sapphire surrounded in silver filigree.

"Oh, wow!" said Tori. The only one to make a sound.

Harry carefully undid the clasp, drew it around Daphne's throat and reaffixed the clasp at the base of her neck.

Leaning forward he planted a kiss on the top of her head before walking back around the seat and sitting back down. "Do you want to show them what else is in there?" he asked her.

Daphne turned the case around and held it up so everyone else could see. It held a pair of matching sapphire earrings to the necklace.

"They're beautiful, Daphne," said Isabel.

Daphne just nodded in response.

She turned the case back around, closed it, and placed it on her lap; before turning to Harry, cupping his cheek in her palm and gently placing a kiss on his lips. She stared into his eyes while hers were watering a little.

"Everything that's in my vaults will be yours, some day," said Harry, loud enough for the rest to hear. "Therefore, giving you a gift from the vaults didn't seem right. So, this marks the first piece from the Lady Daphne Potter collection."

Clearing his throat, Cygnus reached into the stack and pulled out one for Sirius. A selection of joke products from Tori.

"To help you find the prankster in you, again," she said.

Sirius laughed and said, "An excellent idea, Tori!"

Harry's gift to Tori was a necklace with tiny diamond pendant, which made her squeal in delight. She then demanded Harry put it on for her - which he was happy to do.

He gifted a sterling silver desk set to Cygnus, and a choker with a centered emerald to Isabel.

Sirius and Daphne also received from Harry charmed wand holsters similar to those used by aurors. Both made of dragon hide and charmed to be invisible at will.

Harry was surprised to find Sirius and the Greengrasses had gifted him a Nimbus 2000 broom, together with a good quality broom servicing kit for it, among other things.

"We had ten years of Christmas and birthday gifts to make up for, Pup," said Sirius, when Harry looked at him and the others in awe and gratitude.

"And, if you make the Quidditch team for Ravenclaw next year," said Cygnus, "we'll be providing you with the armour you're going to need."

After the gifting ended Harry was able to carry his horde upstairs to his room and get in a quick shower and other ablutions before he had to race down for breakfast.

He was told he wasn't allowed to try out the broom until after the morning meal.

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	28. Lily's Pad

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Eight – Lily's Pad**

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As soon as he was able - and allowed - Harry had his new broom out and was flinging it about the sky towards the rear of the house.

He didn't notice Daphne and Astoria come out carrying their own brooms, or see the adults follow them. Instead of joining him Daphne and Astoria watched him fly.

It really hadn't take that long for Harry to get used to the broom. And, before long, he was carrying out feats of flying that had the two girls and Sirius gaping in awe while the Greengrass elders watched worriedly.

"He can really _fly_!" said Sirius with a gasp.

At one point, Harry drove the broom vertical straight up. At about two hundred feet up, he stalled the broom, allowing it flip over backwards before pointing it straight down. He only pulled up about three feet off the ground before angling the brown upwards at about forty-five degrees and executing a double barrel roll.

Practically hopping off the broom in mid-flight he caused the broom to skid across the sky before performing a corkscrew turn.

When he finally saw the others collected on the back patio he brought the broom down and to a halt with a one foot skid before lightly stepping off the back of it.

"Wow! That was fun!" he happily exclaimed.

Everyone stared back at him in shock. Both girls and Sirius were staring at him in awe.

"Ummm - Hello?" he said.

The first to find her voice, Daphne asked, "Where did you learn to fly like _that_?"

"You taught me, remember?" replied Harry.

"No," she said, shaking her head. "I just taught you to fly. I didn't teach you what you did just then."

"I read about those moves in Quidditch magazines," he replied with a shrug. "I find them lying around the Ravenclaw common room all the time. They have lovely pictures both showing and demonstrating the moves and I just thought I'd try some of them."

"How much flying have you done, Harry?" asked Sirius.

"Well, there were the couple of hours where Daphne - ably assisted by Tori - showed me when I was here during the last couple of days of August," said Harry, scratching the back of his head. "Then there was the couple of flying lessons on those old school brooms we had at Hogwarts in September, before Madam Hooch said I wasn't to come back. That's it."

"And why did Madam Hooch tell you not to return?" asked Isabel.

"She told me I nearly gave her a heart attack when I performed a sloth grip roll," replied Harry as if it was the greatest injustice ever.

"I think I need to send Professor Flitwick an owl," muttered Cygnus.

Harry ignored the comment and turned to the two girls, "Coming up, ladies?" he asked. "With guests coming over after lunch this'll probably be our last chance for a couple of days."

With one hand, Harry pointed the tip of the handle away from himself at about thirty degrees and set the broom in motion. As it began to pull away he merely stepped onto the handle where it joined the bristles and, after it climbed a few feet, dropped himself into a sitting position, straddling it.

The girls soon followed him up and they flew gently about the sky for a while.

Harry had lost all track of time when he spied Sirius back out on the back patio motioning for them to come down.

When Harry landed in front of him, the girls a few seconds behind, he said, "Lunch time. Time to put the brooms away. Guests will start arriving soon."

With a bit of good-natured whining and moaning, Harry and the girls secured their brooms.

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First to visit was the Davis family. Harry was finally introduced to the full brood but was almost immediately dragged off by Tracey.

She seemed to be expecting something, and wasn't being half-obvious about it.

Harry grinned and led her into the parlour. Searching through the last few presents that remained under the tree, he fished out his gift to her.

With a grin Tracey ripped off the wrapping paper and held in her hands her own auror style wrist wand holster. When she read the instructions with it Harry watched her eyebrows rise in surprise.

"Harry, we're not supposed to have these," she said. "These are only supposed to be for aurors and Unspeakables."

"It's amazing how well gold talks," said Harry with a shrug.

"Or, when your name is Harry Potter," said Daphne just a touch mock-snidely.

He just grinned at her.

His gift from Tracey was a portable wizarding radio.

Tracey was remaining for the rest of the day, but the rest of the Davis clan had to depart. Not too long later Neville visited.

"Neville!" said Harry happily giving his only male mate a manly hug. "Merry Christmas, mate."

"Merry Christmas, Harry," replied the other boy with a grin of his own.

Neville then withdrew from his robes a couple of gifts. He handed one each to Harry and Daphne. Apparently he'd owl delivered Tracey's to her earlier not knowing she was going to be there.

The boy also showed Harry the wand holster already affixed to his wand arm. He give it a light flick and his wand popped into his hand. Another light flick and it disappeared back up and into the holster. The holster faded away almost immediately afterwards.

"Uncle Algie said to tell you you're a naughty boy for purchasing and gifting these," said Neville with a grin. "But he also heartily approves considering what we know. He's who taught me how to properly use it."

Nodding, Harry said, "So, officially I'm in trouble; and unofficially I've done a good thing?"

Grinning, Neville replied, "That's about the heart of it, yes."

Tracey stayed for dinner, and a bit later afterwards. But, Neville had to return home as Gran said he had to be home before she had to leave to attend the Yule Ball. The same Yule Ball Cygnus, Isabel and Sirius had to attend.

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Early the next morning Harry had to be out of bed early again because the Grangers were coming. All three adults went to the Grangers' house south of London and brought them back via side-along apparition.

As they arrived, a house elf turned up to ensure none of them was going to be sick. It was a first for all three.

Harry, Daphne and Astoria were waiting for them in the parlour.

After the exchange of pleasantries, a few gifts were exchanged. The Granger elders were embarrassed that they had only brought a small gift for both Greengrasses. To which it was simply waved off as being of no consequence.

Harry also helped Hermione fit her wand holster and told her how it would keep her wand invisible for muggles not cleared under the Statute of Secrecy. It pleased Hermione greatly as her grandmother wasn't cleared yet and allowed the young witch to carry her wand on her person at all times.

Immediately after Harry sat down again, Cygnus turned to the Grangers and asked, "Wendell, Monica, what has Hermione told you about her protectee status from the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter?"

"She said Harry did it to protect her, and that it meant the chance of her being attacked in future was greatly diminished as a result," he said, before turning to Harry and saying, "And, thank you for doing that, by the way."

Harry just nodded in response.

"Good," said Cygnus. "That much is correct. But there's more to it than that."

He then went into detail about Hermione's protectee status and what it meant for both her and Harry. And he covered what it meant for Hermione, social status-wise. He also covered what it meant for making purchases in Diagon Alley and Hogsmeade.

Then he came to his next point; magical guardianship of Hermione.

He spoke about how all muggleborn unemancipated minors were assigned a magical guardian when they entered Hogwarts, and that the guardian was supposed to be their Head of House. In Hermione's case, that should be Professor McGonagall.

"But, how can this be?" asked Monica. "We only met her the once, and that was only for about half an hour when she brought Hermione's acceptance letter. She never told us about this magical guardian business."

"I believe it's because she probably thought it would make you reconsider sending Hermione into our world for her schooling," he replied.

"Damned right!" huffed Wendell.

Cygnus also pointed out how Professor McGonagall didn't say a word to either Harry or Hermione when the protectee symbol of the House Crest of the protector appeared on her robes. If she was behaving as a magical guardian should, then she should have investigated immediately.

"What I want to do for you is two things," he said. "First, I would like to know if you'd be interested in formally assigning Hermione's magical guardianship to me. And, second, I would like to know if you'd be interested in being Protectees under the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass. Or either.

"I do not expect you to make a decision about either matter right now. However, I do hope you will give it serious consideration."

"But, why would you want to?" asked Monica.

With a wide smile, Cygnus said, "An excellent question. Firstly, because your daughter has become close friends with _my_ daughter and her betrothed. I see it as an excellent way to protect them both.

"Secondly, you have become friends with my Isabel and it would make her very happy to know you were protected. And, what makes her happy makes my life easier.

"Thirdly, there is a - belief - out in wizarding Britain that the Greengrass family is a dark family who espouses the bigoted pureblood beliefs. Placing muggles, such as yourself, under our protection sends out a very clear message that we are not what they believe us to be.

"And, fourth, it is a way for House Greengrass and House Potter to further show a strong alliance betwixt our Houses; with Hermione under the protection of House Potter and you under the protection of House Greengrass."

Nodding, Wendell said, "Hermione mentioned something in her letters about sheep and land. I couldn't really make sense of it, but it sounds important."

Harry burst into laughter. "Sorry," he chortled. "I'm not laughing at _you_; more at the situation."

Chuckling himself, Cygnus replied, "As a protectee Hermione is required to allow Harry to graze his sheep on her land if he asked it of her. As Hermione doesn't own any land Harry can't well ask her. However, since Harry doesn't own any sheep, it doesn't matter anyway.

"You'll also be pleased to know _I_ don't own any sheep. either. And I have no intention of purchasing any."

That earned Cygnus a few surprised blinks of eyes. "That sounds rather - antiquated," said Monica.

"It reflects how old the law surrounding this actually is," replied Cygnus. "Other requirements are: you may not raise arms against me without, first, publicly stating you have chosen to forgo my protection; if I go to war, you must provide suitable strapping men of fighting age to aide me, if they're available, which means those over the age of fifteen and under the age of thirty five; and you may not accept protection status of another House without first ending it with mine."

"So you're really doing this just to protect us?" asked Monica. "There's nothing else to it?"

"It may be more accurate to say we're doing this to protect the family of Hermione Granger," said Cygnus. "And - because my wife wants to reward those who have assisted her."

"But it was such a small thing for us to do," said Wendell. "It's a big thing you're offering in return."

Smiling Cygnus replied, "And we feel the opposite. What you felt was a small thing to do is a big thing for my wife. And what you feel is a big thing I'm offering is really only a small thing in return. It's a matter of perception.

"Now, we also promised you an explanation of betrothal contracts," said Cygnus, leaning forward. "I'll stick to generalities as the conditions of Harry's and Daphne's betrothal are a private matter between our two Houses.

"I'll first cover how marriage is recognised in the muggle - your - world, and then how it is in the magical world. This will give you a basis of understanding why betrothal contracts exist in the magical world. Agreed?"

Both Wendell and Monica nodded, as did Hermione.

"Excellent! Because I did a great deal of homework into muggle customs to prepare for this conversation; and I'd hate to see all that work go to waste," he smiled. "First, marriage contracts still exist in the muggle world. They are often used in nations such as India, Africa and Persian Gulf nations; and in cultures such as Judaism and Arabian. Further, they are still occasionally seen in monarchic cultures of the upper echelons of society _including_ here in muggle Great Britain.

"You're now also starting to see a return to similar contracts in general western culture with what is known as a prenuptial agreement - or, prenup - and premarital agreements. A written agreement, of course, is simply another name for a contract without it having the scary connotations.

"Now, the reason they went out of favour, in the first place, is because the law changed to allow what was believed to be a fair dissolution of property between separating spouses. And that came about because property brought in to the marriage, or gained during the marriage, legally became what is known as community property. That is, the property is jointly and equally owned by both husband and wife. With me, so far?"

All the adults and even some of the children nodded.

"Good. However, in the magical world, society still follows what came _before_ community property. For muggle society, this only happened less than a century ago - and it's known as 'Coverture'. That is, all that is brought into a marriage by the wife is considered the property of the husband. And the wife only has property that is allowed her _by_ the husband. The wife becomes _feme covert_ – A covered woman.

"Now that might sound barbaric but, I remind you, it was still the law in the muggle world until very recently. And, is still the law in other parts of the world.

"Because of the law of Coverture, in the magical world, the families of the females born into one of the important Houses wanted to ensure that, if there became a problem that required the marriage to be magically and legally dissolved, the property brought into the marriage by the wife, could be recovered. As parents of a daughter, I'm sure you see the wisdom of that."

Both Grangers nodded.

"Further, there comes the issue for the Ancient Houses and what's called Primogenitor - birthright," he continued. "Something even the muggle world needs to deal with in a monarchical society such as Great Britain. Succession in the magical world is _incredibly_ important; probably more so than it is in the muggle world outside of the Royal Family.

"Without a betrothal contract, if Daphne and Harry were to marry, then something happened to me, the Lordship of House Greengrass would flow directly to Daphne through Primogenitor, then _instantly_ to Harry, as her husband, under Coverture. He would become Lord Greengrass and Head of House Greengrass. With that power he could legally wreak havoc on House Greengrass, including subsuming House Greengrass into House Potter; thereby effectively ending the Greengrass line."

Some of the adults gasped in shock while the Grangers looked stunned.

After the shocked mutterings ended, Cygnus continued, "This is where the wisdom of a betrothal contract comes into play; as they're used to put a stop to that sort of nonsense. For example, I may have foreseen such a situation and put clauses in the contract to stop that."

Cygnus looked at Harry, who nodded.

"First, the contract may - and I'm not saying it does, mind you - include a stipulation where Daphne is required to bear for Harry at least two male children. That's normal in these situations. The first would become Lord Potter on Harry's death, or if he were to pass on the Lordship earlier. Their second-born son would have the name Greengrass and would take up the Head of House Greengrass on his eleventh birthday, and the Lordship on his seventeenth.

"To protect that further, if there is no second son, we might have decided the titles would transfer to _Astoria's_ second oldest son; or, Daphne's eldest daughter; or some other familial member of Greengrass blood. Plus, there may also be a stipulation Harry continue to keep the business interests of both Houses as separate entities and run them side-by-side. That way Daphne's second-born son will have a fully established House to inherit, and the Greengrass line will continue."

Harry then leaned forward and said, "Having now thought about this for a while, I'm quite sure that, considering the danger of the war they were in at the time and that they were Aurors - magical police - fighting in that war, both my father and Cygnus knew there was a risk to House Greengrass of that occurring if Daphne and House Greengrass weren't immediately protected by a betrothal contract.

"It has become clear to me my father was always one when went beyond the norm to protect his friends. And that protecting House Greengrass for Cygnus may have been part of what went through his mind when he agreed to the contract."

Cygnus looked surprised and said, "That - actually makes a lot of sense. Your father was always willing to - as you put it - go beyond the norm to protect his friends. And, yes, much of what's in the betrothal contract goes towards protecting the interests of House Greengrass."

Turning more fully to Harry, he said, "But, it also goes a long way towards protecting the interests of House Potter. Don't ever forget that."

After more general conversation, the adults returned the Grangers back to their home so they could begin their road trip to Wendell's mother's home. The Grangers swore to give what was offered to them due thought and would let Cygnus know as soon as they had decided.

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Wanting to get his business with the goblins out of the way early, Harry asked permission to take Daphne and visit Gringotts the day after Boxing Day; the next day; a Friday.

Sirius immediately piped up and asked if Harry wouldn't mind an escort. "I have no problem with that," he replied.

Hearing Sirius would be escorting the two pre-teens, Isabel gave her permission for Harry and Daphne to go.

A quick trip through the floo, with Harry again landing face first on the floor of The Leaky Cauldron, they were through the back door of the pub and out into the Alley.

As they mounted the stairs to enter the bank all three caused their postures to become more erect and strode in.

Walking up to the first available teller, Harry waited until the goblin looked up at him. He said, "Good morning, Teller. I hope gold continues to flow into your vaults and your enemies are no longer."

With an answering grin the goblin said, "It is and they are, young wizard. What do you want?"

"I come seeking audience with Account Keeper Bloodfang," replied Harry. "Please be so kind as to inform him Mister Potter is here to see him."

The goblin reached down under his counter, brought back up a sheet of parchment and, using an old gnarled root and ink, wrote a short note. He folded it in half and dropped it into a slot.

Looking back up he said, "A message has been sent to Account Keeper Bloodfang you await him, young wizard. An escort will be with you shortly. May your business, this day, prove profitable. Please, step back."

Harry gave a very slight bow in response and backed away from the teller station. He rejoined Daphne and Sirius away from the tellers in the middle of the Hall.

Less than a minute later, a younger looking goblin approached Harry and said, "Please follow me, Mister Potter." He turned on his heel and started walking away.

Harry took Daphne's hand in the crook of his elbow and followed. Sirius was walking behind them.

The goblin led Harry and his party to the same office he was in on the first day he walked into Diagon Alley. The goblin knocked on the door and paused a moment before opening it and ushering the three inside. Not entering himself, the young goblin then closed the door behind them.

"Mister Potter," said Bloodfang. "How may Gringotts provide service to you today?"

"A couple of matters are of interest, Account Keeper Bloodfang, my friend," replied Harry. "First, these are my betrothed, Miss Daphne Greengrass, and my godfather, Lord Sirius Black," he introduced them.

After the required pleasantries, Harry asked, "Now, has wizard Albus Dumbledore finally returned that property which belongs to me?"

"He has, except for two magical artefacts, seven books of advanced magic of quite some age, and an amount of gold," replied the goblin looking at the inventory before him. "One is an invisibility cloak owned by your family for generations; the other is a solicitor's pensieve of the highest quality clearly marked with the Potter family crest."

"I see," said Harry. "Do you know where those two magical artefacts and books might be at this time?"

"We believe all nine items are in the Headmaster's office at Hogwarts Castle."

"And what is the amount of gold?"

"9,258₲ 9Š 14Ҝ, Sir." (Nine thousand two hundred and fifty eight Galleons, nine sickles and fourteen knuts)

"I shall also require a copy of the inventory of items returned plus their current location," said Harry.

He thought for a moment and said, "I believe pursuing wizard Dumbledore for the gold will cost greater effort than the gold is worth if he is unwilling to return it. However, I have been more than fair concerning the return of my property.

"How much would it cost me for the goblins to effect recovery of my property still in the hands of wizard Dumbledore?"

The goblin looked down at his notes for a moment before looking up with an avaricious grin. He replied, "9,258₲ 9Š 14Ҝ, Sir."

Sirius burst into laughter while Harry struggled to keep it in.

"And you don't consider the price a little steep, Account Keeper Bloodfang?" asked Harry.

"If it is an amount you're willing to forgo when it is rightfully yours, clearly you do not place much value on it," replied the goblin.

That time even Harry laughed.

"Alright, my friend," he said to the goblin, once he'd calmed down a little. "Recover it _all_ from wizard Dumbledore, including the gold, then you may keep the gold as payment for this service. However, I shall not forget your shenanigans here, this day."

The goblin grinned in what Harry thought was 'happily' before he ducked his head down and wrote a few things on parchment.

"Now, I also wish access to the Potter private properties so I may investigate them," said Harry.

Nodding, the goblin wrote on another sheet of parchment, folded it in half and dropped it into a slot on his desk.

"Your ring is able to take you to each property simply by pressing on the stone and speaking the name of the property. However, I've assumed you want others to go with you, as well. I've ordered reusable portkeys to be made for Potter Manor, Potter's Retreat and The Winter House and they shall be with us momentarily," said the goblin. "Potter's Cottage has been claimed by the Ministry and we still await your order about whether or not to claim it back or demand payment for it. Lily's Pad is here in the Alley and you only need to press on your ring and say 'Lily's Pad' for it to become visible to you. And I've left out the Shrieking Shack in Hogsmeade as it does not require any special access at this point to enter."

"And, finally, I would like to add my godfather here," said Harry, pointing over his shoulder. "To have access to the Potter vaults when I am otherwise unavailable."

The goblin took one look at Sirius and ducked his head to write on yet another sheet of parchment. This, too, he folded in half and dropped it into the slot on his desk. As he was dropping it in there was a 'ding' sound from his desk.

While he was writing Sirius had leaned forward and said to Harry, "You don't need to do that, Harry. I can easily loan you the gold if you need it. And you can pay me back later."

"No, Sirius, you don't understand," said Harry giving his head a little shake. "I want you to have access in case I need you to fetch me an heirloom or something. I know you wouldn't have an issue with loaning me the gold."

"I've ordered a duplicate key to the Potter vaults for Lord Black. It, too, shall be here momentarily," the goblin cut in.

He reached into a box and withdrew three coloured quoit rings.

Placing them down one at a time he identified them as one each for Potter Manor, Potter's Retreat and The Winter House. However, due to Ministry regulations, the second two could not be used unless used within the country in which the property lies.

While he was describing those, the box dinged again. Harry picked up the three quoits.

The goblin reached back into his box and withdrew a large gold key identical to the one Harry had for his vaults. The goblin offered Sirius a ceremonial dagger to blood imprint it but Sirius declined it. Instead, he picked the key up and dropped it into a vest pocket of his robes.

Lastly, the goblin slid over a copy of the inventory Harry wanted. He picked it up, scanned down the list, then folded it and placed it in his pocket with a muttered, "Thank you."

"Does this conclude your business with Gringotts this day, Mister Potter?" asked the goblin.

"It does," said Harry starting to rise. Just before leaving, he turned to the old goblin and said, "May your enemies continue to tremble with fear at mention of your name. And may gold continue to flow into your vaults - even _if_ some it was mine."

The old goblin barked with laughter as Harry walked out.

"I believe working with you will have gold flowing freely into _both_ our vaults, Mister Potter," the old goblin said a little fondly, once the door was closed.

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As they left the front entrance of the bank, Harry asked, "Have we time to quickly check out my mother's old place?"

Sirius nodded and said, "I can't see why not. I remember it's here in the Alley somewhere."

"It's this way," said Harry, leading them a little deeper down the Alley.

When they came to Scribbulus Everchanging Inks, Harry pressed the stone on his ring and whispered to it, "Lily's Pad."

A door appeared in the wall between Scribbulus's and the cafe next door. Taking both by the hand, Harry walked Daphne and Sirius up to the door. "Do you see it?" he asked them.

"See what, Pup?" asked Sirius looking around.

Daphne, also looking around, said, "I can't see anything I'm supposed to see."

He let go of Sirius's hand and knuckled his ring onto the brass plate where he felt a lock should be. He heard a click and opened the door.

Still holding Daphne, he pushed her lightly through the door and heard her say, "Oh!" as the ward effectively broke for her.

Turning around he saw Sirius about to walk off and had to grab him. He then dragged Sirius through the ward at the door to join Daphne who was standing on the steps just inside.

Sirius said, "Oh! We just passed through a Notice-Me-Not ward."

Harry nodded to Sirius and turned to look where they were. Other than the small area of flat floor in front of the external door, immediately in front was a set of stairs leading up a full flight.

Harry started to climb the stairs and grabbed Daphne by the hand as he passed.

At the top of the stairs was another door. Harry simply turned the door handle and the door opened away from him.

"Let's have a look, shall we?" he said, turning to Daphne.

Turning back he walked through to the door.

Inside, they saw a small apartment. They had entered into a small lounge area with a dining area off to one side, and a kitchen beyond that.

However, before they could go any further, a house elf appeared and glared at them with it's arms crossed. It said, "Who be you?" Suddenly, it's eyes opened wide in surprise staring at Harry.

With a squeal of "Master Harry!" it dash forward and hugged Harry around the thighs.

It quickly backed off, saw Sirius and said, "Master Siri!" It ignored Daphne.

Looking back at Harry, it said, "Welcome back, Master Harry! We been waiting for you!"

"And just who would you be, little one?" asked Harry.

"I be Ninny!" replied the elf with a bow. "I was Mistress Lily's personal elf." And it stood up, proudly. "Now I be yours!"

The little house elf stood there wearing what looked like a set of abbreviated wizarding robes with the House Potter Crest in one tone embroidery on the _right_ side of the breast.

"Then, hello, Ninny," said Harry. Turning towards the others he said, "You clearly know my godfather, Lord Sirius Black; and this lovely young lady standing next to me is my betrothed, Miss Daphne Greengrass."

The little elf came forward and used both hands to take the back of the fingers of Daphne's right hand and press her forehead to them. "Miss Daffy," it said. "You be next Lady Potter; yes?"

"Errr - yes," said Daphne.

Thinking for a bit, Harry asked, "You said, 'we', Ninny; are there any other Potter Elves?"

"There be seven more, Master Harry," replied the elf. "There be three at Potter Manor, two at Potter's Retreat and two at Winter House."

Thinking a bit, he asked, "Can you call the three from Potter Manor to come here so we may meet them?"

"Oh, yes!" the little elf replied gleefully. It seemed to hesitate for a few moments with a frown on it's face before it suddenly snapped it's fingers.

Three more elves suddenly turned up.

"Master Harry!" said the lead elf; or, at least, the one in front. And all three elves bowed.

"I be Petey," said the elf in front.

"I be Callie," said the next.

"I be Rizzy," said the third.

"Then, hello, Petey, Callie and Rizzy," replied Harry.

Turning to Sirius, Harry asked, "Do you recognise these elves, Sirius?"

"I didn't until they turned up, Harry," he replied. "Now, I do. It must have something to do with - where they're from being unplottable and under a Hiding Charm. I had completely forgotten they even existed."

Turning back to the elves Harry introduced them to Daphne as his betrothed. Each then came forward and did the same strange gesture of holding her right hand fingers, palm out, to their foreheads.

"That's quite the peculiar thing to do," mused Harry.

Daphne turned to him and said, "They're recognising me as the next Lady Potter. It's an elf custom related to their magic."

All four elves nodded when Harry turned back to them.

"Alright," he mused. Looking at the latest three he asked, "And what do you guys do at Potter Manor?"

Petey stepped forward again and said, "I be Master's personal elf. I take care of personal living spaces.

Callie stepped forward and said, "I be cook and take care of other spaces."

And Rizzy said, "I take care of gardens, greenhouses and stables."

"I take it you all help each other out, too?" asked Harry.

He saw four elf heads nod in response.

"Do you feel you are busy enough, at the moment?"

"Rizzy busy in spring and summer," said Rizzy. "Not so busy in winter."

Petey, Callie and Ninny all looked sad and Petey said, "We busy once family come back to live in Potter Manor. We not busy now."

Looking at Sirius, Harry grinned before turning back to the elves.

"Master Sirius has a big home in London," he said. "The house elf there, Kreacher, is not doing his job..."

"We know Kreacher," said Petey, looking a little angry. "Kreacher is a _bad_ elf!"

"Well," said Harry, "Master Sirius needs help in cleaning his big home up. It has not been cleaned in a very long time. If Master Sirius calls you, would you please go and help him clean his home up? You have my permission to do so."

All four elves just about bounced on the spot in excitement. "Oh, yes! Oh, yes!"

"Harry!" exclaimed Sirius.

Harry turned to him and said, "They need to work, Sirius. You know that. And they've been pretty much idle for over a decade now. You'd be doing them a favour if you let them clean that old place up for you."

"Yeah, I would; wouldn't I," said Sirius, before he let out a sigh. "Alright, they can do it. I'll be sure to call them when I return."

Harry grasped Sirius's arm in a reassuring manner before turning back to the elves.

"Alright, then," said Harry to the four of them. We're going to have a look around here, then we're headed back to Greengrass Estate. We plan on visiting Potter Manor some time over the next couple days; so I'll see you then."

The other three all bowed before disappearing leaving Ninny behind.

"Alright, Ninny," he said to her. "How about you show us this place and then we'll be on our way."

Ninny nodded and showed them around. Lily's Pad had the lounge they were standing in with the almost mandatory large fireplace, and a small balcony overlooking Diagon Alley was also accessed from there; the small alcove dining room with a table set for six; the small kitchen they could just see from the lounge, until they walked in to have a better look; a bedroom with a Queen bed, walk in robe and dressing table, and two bedside tables; and an office. The office also contained two foldaway cots.

Indicating the largest couch, she described how it was also a foldaway sofa bed.

When Harry asked about when his Mum lived there, Ninny said it was Mistress Lily's home until she married Master James. And that, once they were married, Master James and Mistress Lily used it as a guest house. She said the fireplace there was linked with the fireplace at Potter Manor until they went into hiding at Potter's Cottage.

"Is the fireplace still connected to the floo network?" asked Harry.

"Yes, but turned off," replied Ninny.

"Can I turn it back on from here?" he asked.

Ninny showed him how to turn the fireplace back on, re-establishing the connection to the floo network.

Looking around, he saw a small ornamental box in the mantelpiece. Looking inside he found a small supply of floo powder.

Looking at the elf, he asked, "The floo address for here is Lily's Pad?"

"Yes, Master Harry," she replied.

"Alright, then; I suppose that's it?" asked Harry, looking at the others.

Both Daphne and Sirius nodded.

"Then let us away to Greengrass Estate," he said, offering the container to Daphne first.

Daphne floo'ed away first, then Sirius, finally Harry after he returned the box to the mantelpiece and bid Ninny to take care of herself.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	29. Old Busybody

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Twenty Nine – Old Busybody**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Wanting to get unsealing Potter Manor out of the way, Harry convinced the Greengrasses to let him go there the next morning.

Cygnus showed him the ward ledger for Greengrass Estate and told him how a similar ledger would be kept at Potter Manor. He would have to get the elves to show him the ledger, and taught him how to add and remove the names of those who were permitted through the substantial wards on the property.

Harry would need to go, alone, first; add the names of those who he wanted to allow through, reconnect the floo, and then tell everyone else when he was done.

Harry dropped into a pocket quill and ink, in case he needed it for the ward ledger in the Manor. Because of the wards at Greengrass Estate, he had to walk to the front gates of the property and leave the warded area before he was free to use his ring portkey. Daphne escorted him out.

Once outside the gates, Daphne told him he was far enough away to be beyond the wards. After a quick hug and kiss between them, he firmly pressed on his ring and called, "Potter Manor!"

He disappeared in a swirl.

After the merry-go-round feeling of portkeying ended, Harry barely staggered when he landed in an office in a large home.

A moment later, Petey popped in. The little elf bowed and said, "Welcome home, Master Harry."

"Potter Manor, right?" he asked the elf.

"Yes, Master Harry," replied the elf. "This is the Master's study in Potter Manor."

"Well, thank Merlin for that!" he said. "Now, I believe there's a ward book for the Manor wards I need to have a look at and adjust."

"Yes, Master Harry," replied the elf. He walked over to the room's fireplace and indicated an indentation in the filigree work of the surround. "You need to press the House ring into there, Master."

Harry walked over and could see just what the little elf was pointing to. He made a fist with his right hand and the ring in front; lined it up and pressed it into the indentation.

A few moments later, Harry felt the magics of the ring signify - something - and he heard a click.

He pulled the ring away and a section of the surround popped open.

Pulling on it, he noticed it was like a drawer. He pulled it right out and inside he found a leather-bound folio with a sealed bottle of ink and a gorgeous quill resting atop it.

Lifting all three items out he carried them over to the desk and placed them on the blotter. He took seat in what was now _his_ chair and pulled himself up to the desk.

Looking down at the folio he again saw the impression of the House ring. He pressed it into the impression and there was a light flash before the edge of the folio/book seemed to come free.

Opening the book he could see names that had clearly started when the Manor was first built and proceeding forward chronologically from there. He flipped through the pages until he came to the last entries and started to scan backwards, looking for names that were still recognised as having access to the property.

One of the last entries was Harry James Potter. Scanning backwards for names not yet crossed out, he also found, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, Daphne Ophelia Greengrass, Alice Green Longbottom, Francis Andrew Longbottom, Isabel Mary Greengrass, Cygnus George Greengrass, Lily Evans Potter, Sirius Orion Black and James Charlus Potter.

Names that were crossed out that he recognised included Amelia Susan Bones, Susan Charity Bones, Augusta Reeves Longbottom, Remus John Lupin, Peter Andrew Pettigrew, Minerva Hetty McGonagall, Filius Flitwick and Rubeus Jeremy Hagrid.

Snapping himself out of his broody mood, Harry noticed he only needed to add Astoria May Greengrass to the list to have the Greengrass Estate household able to enter the Manor. However, he used the opportunity to add Tracey Anne Davis, Neville Francis Longbottom, Susan Charity Bones, Hannah Mary Abbott, and Hermione Jean Granger. Thinking a bit he also returned Remus John Lupin, Amelia Susan Bones and Augusta Reeves Longbottom to the list.

Then he removed only one name; Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore. And he was quite pleased with himself when he did so.

'I wonder if that's how Dumbledore came into possession of those books the goblins told me about?' he thought.

Blowing on the ink to make sure it was dried, he softly closed the ledger. Another light flash made the book seem to compress itself together a little as the pages all locked together.

He then carried the items back to the hidden draw and carefully pushed it closed. With a click it almost seemed to disappear.

Petey was still waiting for him so he asked the elf, "Okay, Petey; what do I need to do to activate the fireplace back onto the floo network?"

The little elf told Harry that the fireplace wasn't connected to the floo network. However, he led Harry from the office and through to the parlour where a fireplace similar in size to the one at Greengrass Estate was found. In there, Petey led him through the steps to reconnect _that_ fireplace to the network.

Once it was done, Harry found a flip-top wooden box on the mantel with floo powder. He looked to the elf and said, "I'll be back soon with some guests."

"Fare thee well, Master Harry," replied the elf with a bow.

"Thank you, Petey." Harry tossed in the floo powder, called "Greengrass Estate!" and stepped into the flames.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"And you're sure you entered the names in the ward ledger correctly?" asked Cygnus.

"Cygnus!" said Harry. "I did it correctly and even had Petey watch me do it. If I had done anything wrong he would have let me know. The ward permissions have been correctly set; don't worry."

Once everyone was organised who would be coming. Which, as this was a big and exciting thing, meant everybody. Harry was first through the floo back to Potter manor.

When he arrived, Petey quickly popped in and, when Harry said the rest of his party was right behind him, Petey called the other three British-based Potter elves, including Ninny.

Next through was Cygnus, then Sirius, Daphne, Tori and finally Isabel.

Harry grinned and, looking at Cygnus, said, "See? Everyone's safe."

Cygnus just cocked a wry grin back.

Turning to look at the elves, Harry said, "Petey; how about a tour? I know Cygnus, Isabel and Sirius have been here before, but it's been a while."

A little excited, Petey said, "Petey is happy to show everyone Potter Manor!"

Not just content with showing everyone the rooms of the Manor, Petey also talked about the history of the property. And showed them everything; except, as Harry came to understand later, certain features of the Manor that he considered family secrets, not to be shared.

In the Entry Hall, Harry looked up in awe at the large embossed Crest of House Potter that was affixed to the wall between the twin curved staircases that led up each side. It was something he missed seeing when he left the office to go and re-activate the floo in the large fireplace.

However, it was what they found in the upstairs private family common room, or history room, that had Harry gobsmacked.

Hanging on the wall was a large red velvet tapestry with a huge family tree embroidered in gold thread and other colours.

Having taken his elbow almost from the moment she stepped out of the fireplace, Daphne pointed towards the bottom left of it and whispered, "Look; Harry. There's us."

Looking towards where she indicated, Harry could, indeed, see his full name embossed in gold thread. And, right along side it and joined with a dotted line, was Daphne Ophelia Greengrass.

Sirius moved in closer and indicated Harry's paternal grandparents. "Here's how you're most directly related to me, Harry. Charlus Emmett Potter married Dorea Hestia Black. Dorea's oldest brother was my maternal grandfather. It's how I'm able to name you as the Heir Presumptive of House Black; which I've formally done, by the way."

Harry nodded, a little too choked up to talk.

Cygnus stepped forward and indicated another name before indicating another joined by marriage alongside. "That's your great great aunt who married my great grandfather."

"I'm happy to see Daphne's name already there," said Harry in a soft voice.

"As am I, Harry," said Cygnus giving him a one-armed hug. "It is yet another confirmation magic has accepted the status of the betrothal contract. And Daphne's future as the next Lady Potter."

Looking up towards the top of the tapestry, Harry saw another name that surprised him. Pointing to it, he asked, "Dagworth-Granger?"

Everyone else looked at it and knew what Harry was wondering about.

"Could be..." mused Cygnus.

"It's a line believed to have died out generations ago," said Sirius, also wondering.

"An inheritance test would let us know one way or the other..." said Cygnus.

"We could ask the Grangers if they're willing for Hermione to undergo the test," said Harry.

"It wouldn't hurt," said Isabel. "There's no downside to such a test, except for the initial pain of the pricking to collect the blood. And that's soon passed."

Nodding, Cygnus said, "Alright. It's something to consider."

From the private rooms of the family of the Head of House they looked through the seven guest rooms with their private ensuites before heading back downstairs.

Stepping outside Harry saw just how big Potter Manor really was. The main building was two full stories tall, plus a large walk-through windowed attic. The walls were painted a brilliant white with the window frames and doors in gloss black. The roof was shingled black with the window frames in gloss white.

While it was mid winter, and snow covered everything, it was easy to see how the gardens would be immaculately groomed in summer with clearly delineated beds.

Out the back, they found a Quidditch pitch with a single set of tribunes - stands for spectators - sitting opposite of where they were standing.

Rizzy met them and took them to see the small triplet of greenhouses set off to one side. Inside the benches and hanging spaces were clean and clear. Only one greenhouse was operational and that was being used to grow vegetables, fruits and herbs at one end.

The stables were on the other side of the area to the rear of the manor house, and there was a set of corrals fenced in white railings. Like the Manor proper, the stables were painted in brilliant white with black trimmed windows and doors. However, the stables were unoccupied as there were currently no pets kept on the property.

Trudging back inside before they got too cold, they were led to the informal dining room by Callie, who sat them down with hot chocolate beverages each.

"Master and Mistress and guests should have worn warm winter cloaks before going outside. Youse catch cold," the little elf scolded them.

Harry chuckled and said, "Yes, Callie. Thank you for reminding us. We didn't think to bring them when we decided to visit. Next time, we shall remember."

As they were finishing their cocoas Isabel asked, "Have you seen everything you want to see, Harry?"

Thinking, Harry replied, "I've just had a thought. I think I need to go into the library for a minute to have a look."

"Well, shall we?" asked Cygnus.

Nodding, Harry led the others back to the library. They'd only had a bit of a look earlier.

Stepping into the library, Harry called Petey.

"Yes, Master Harry?" the little elf asked.

"After Master James and Mistress Lily left, did Albus Dumbledore come back here?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Master Harry," replied the elf. "He said Master James said he could borrow some books from the library, here."

With a snort, Harry said to the others, "I thought so. His name was still in the permissions list to come through the wards. I've now removed it."

Turning to the elf again, he asked, "And how many books did he take and not return?"

"He took fifteen books and returned none, Master Harry," the elf replied.

With a snort of his own, Cygnus muttered, "Thieving old wanker."

Still to the elf, Harry asked, "And how many books did he borrow _before_ James and Lily left and not returned at all?"

"Three, Master Harry."

With a grim look, Harry said to the elf, "Then I want you to find those eighteen books and bring them back to the library. I also want a list of just what books he took. Is there anything else he took from any Potter property and has not returned?"

"He has taken nothing else, Master Potter," replied Petey.

Musing for a bit, Harry asked, "Is there any property belonging to Albus Dumbledore still here, or at any other Potter property?"

"No, Master Harry."

"Then, thank you, Petey," said Harry.

The elf popped away.

"I think that's it then," said Harry.

Sirius was grumbling as they headed back to the fireplace. "And to think I _trusted_ that old man."

After they all floo'ed back to Greengrass Estate, Harry said, "It's not as if we can actually see him charged with taking the books. After all, he can always say he only borrowed them and that my father gave him permission to hold on to them for a while.

"I'm just annoyed he actually did it. After all, according to this list, some of those books were extremely rare, out of print and priceless."

"Well, the house elves will get them back, soon enough," said Cygnus. "I just wish I could be there when he realises they've gone."

"I've no doubt he will want to talk to me about them and the other items the goblins will be recovering when we get back to Hogwarts," said Harry. "I imagine he's going to be quite upset with me."

Daphne snickered and said in an impersonating voice, "Ah! Harry, my boy. I'm _so_ disappointed in you. Your _father_ would be so disappointed in you, too. Those books were entrusted into my care by your father and it's important I have them. It's for the Greater Good."

Sirius burst into laughter first, closely followed by Harry and Cygnus. Isabel just smirked while Astoria clearly didn't know what her sister was getting at but still thought she sounded funny.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A couple of days later, Cygnus received a floo call from Dumbledore.

"Ah, Cygnus!" said Dumbledore. "I wonder if I may step through concerning a matter of utmost importance."

"And what matter would be the utmost of importance on New Years Eve, Albus?" asked Cygnus.

"Something best not discussed via floo, I'm afraid," replied Dumbledore. "I shall only be a few moments."

"I'm afraid I'm going to need more than just _that_, Albus," replied Cygnus.

Cygnus watched as the expression on Dumbledore's face turned hard for a moment before the old man seemed to gather himself. He said, "It is a most _delicate_ matter concerning your family business. I'm sure you won't want it spoken of via this medium."

"Oh, I'm sure I'll weather it just fine, Albus," replied Cygnus in a magnanimous voice. "Please say what you need to. My family is looking forward to a festive evening and preparations must be made."

Dumbledore's expression turned hard again before he said, "I wish to speak with you about young Harry; and wish not to speak of such matters via the floo."

"If you don't trust the floo, send me an _owl_, Albus," said Cygnus.

"This is a matter I wish to speak with you _in person_, Cygnus," the old man sighed. "Can you not spare me a few moments, old friend?"

"Of course, Albus," said Cygnus. "But, in order not to disturb my family's preparations for this evening, it'd be best if I come through to you."

Harry and Daphne, who were out of sight of the fireplace but in sight of Cygnus, were trying their best not to laugh out loud at the attempts of Dumbledore to get inside the Greengrass wards.

With another big over-done sigh, Dumbledore said, "Alas, that would not be possible. I shall try at a time when you are not so busy."

Before Cygnus could respond, Dumbledore pulled his face out of the fire and the green of an active floo call disappeared.

"Persistent, isn't he?" he smirked at the two.

"I believe he's finally realised I've not spent Christmas with my biological aunt," said Harry. "I was wondering when he'd figure it out."

"And why would he think you would?" asked Cygnus.

Harry grinned and said, "Pensieve time!"

Cygnus chuckled and said, "I take it I'm going to find this entertaining?"

"Oh, yes," said Daphne.

"Well, come on, then," he said, heading for his office.

After viewing the memory, Cygnus came out and said, "He assumed."

"Exactly," said Harry. "We've decided to use his own trickery of words back at him. We've noticed he often says something that is inherently true; however, is easily perceived as meaning something else entirely. He did that a lot during his trial. He deliberately uses words and a sentence structure that leads you to a false conclusion."

"So, when you said you'd be spending Christmas with your family, you knew he would assume you meant your aunt," said Cygnus. "But what about when he specifically said he was surprised you had forgiven your aunt enough to spend time over Christmas with her?"

"He made a statement. He didn't ask a question. You'll notice he rarely actually asks a question, just makes a statement and waits for you to respond," said Harry. "I knew it was a falsehood, of course, but it's not necessarily _my_ place to correct him when he makes such. It's the same thing _he_ does.

"Now, if he had _asked_ if I had meant my biological aunt's place when I said 'my family', then I would have been obliged to tell him so. Alas, he didn't."

Cygnus chuckled and said, "It must really get under his skin."

"I hope it does," said Harry. "That's why we've been practicing his mannerisms, as well as his manner of speech. And he can't tell us off, or otherwise punish us for it, because then he'd have to admit that what he was doing was inherently wrong. I cannot see him doing that."

Thinking a bit he continued, "You're probably going to have to let him through at some time. However, make him make an appointment. Then, Daphne and I will make plans to be somewhere else, at the time of the appointment."

"You've not been to Tracey's place yet, have you?" asked Daphne of Harry.

Shaking his head with a grin, he replied, "No. I've been to Neville's and Susan's; but not Tracey's, Hannah's or Hermione's."

"Well," she said. "We'll have to visit her soon, won't we?"

Harry laughed and said, "Of course, dear, it would be quite rude not to!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

While they had a great night staying up until after midnight to welcome the new year, Harry was roused from bed at the godforsaken time of 9.00am the next morning by Cygnus.

Worriedly, Harry asked, "What's going on?"

"I've just had a chat with Dumbledore via floo again," he said. "He's coming over in an hour. Apparently, his 'delicate matter of utmost importance' cannot wait until a more respectable time."

Grumbling about meddling old fools, Harry quickly rose, showered, toileted and dressed in about twenty minutes. He felt he'd managed to time it perfectly when he was joined by Daphne coming out of her own room, also not happy about the time.

"I doubt very much Tracey will be up at this time," she said, by way of Good Morning.

"Then we shall have to do something else," said Harry.

When they made their way downstairs Cygnus was waiting for them. "Sorry, kids," he said. "I couldn't get hold of the Davises either."

Harry turned to Daphne and asked, "How do you feel about a second visit to Lily's Pad? We can watch what's going on in the Alley."

With a frown of annoyance, she replied, "I hope Ninny's up to preparing a breakfast for us."

"I'm sure she'll manage," soothed Harry.

"Alright," she sighed. "But, I'm still getting you over to Tracey's place before we have to return to Hogwarts on the fifth."

"And I look forward to it," he said.

Harry and Daphne approached the fireplace and said to Cygnus, "We'll be at Lily's Pad above Scribbulus's. Then again, we might not." And smirked.

Cygnus nodded and said, "This should take no more than an hour, so I'll see you in about two, alright?"

"Two hours, it is," said Harry.

A pinch of tossed floo powder and a call of Lily's Pad each, and Harry and Daphne were gone.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Cygnus thought it was lucky Harry and Daphne left when they did as Dumbledore floo called not five minutes after they'd left.

"Good morning, again, Cygnus," said the old man. "I find I have to move my scheduling up a bit, this morning. I hope you're able to see me now."

'Cheeky bugger!' thought Cygnus. 'I bet you have nothing organised for after this other than running around trying to find Harry.'

"Very well, Albus," said Cygnus. "The sooner you've been and gone the sooner I can get to my breakfast. I find myself quite cranky in the morning until I've broken my fast."

'Take that as you will, old man,' he thought.

Not a few moments later, Dumbledore stepped through.

"Thank you for taking the time to see me, Cygnus," said Dumbledore. "Shall we head through to your office?"

"In here will do fine, Albus," replied Cygnus taking a seat in one of the armchairs, before he indicated the seat opposite.

"Oh! Yes. Very well," said the old man, slightly aback. "I would have thought somewhere more private would have been better."

"The rest of the household is asleep, Albus," said Cygnus. "We'll not be bothered. It was, after all, a late night, last night. Now, what do you want?"

"Ah!" replied Dumbledore. "Straight to it, then."

Taking a page from Harry and Daphne's way of dealing with the Headmaster, Cygnus didn't say a word.

Finally sitting down, Dumbledore said, "I have been in a bit of a panic, these past few days. Mister Potter did not arrive safely at his maternal aunt's for the holidays."

Again, Cygnus didn't say a word.

"Yes. Well. Errr..." stuttered the old man. "I wondered if you might know where young Harry might be."

And yet again, Cygnus didn't say a word. The man had still not asked a question of him yet.

As he watched the expressions war across the old man's face, he thought, 'Daphne and Harry are right. It _really_ throws him off his game.'

Deciding to throw the old man a bone, Cygnus asked, "Are you actually asking me if I know where young Mister Potter is, at the moment, Albus?"

"Well, yes; I guess that's what I'm asking, yes," replied Dumbledore.

"Then, no, Albus," said Cygnus. 'Well done, Harry,' he thought.

"Oh. I see," said Dumbledore. "It is most imperative I find him."

"Albus," said Cygnus, showing he was getting annoyed. "You informed me you needed to speak with me concerning a - as _you_ put it - matter of utmost importance, and that it was delicate. I fail to see how Mister Potter's whereabouts are either of those; or are any of your concern.

"Now, _please_ get to the reason for this most urgent meeting; so I may get on with my day."

"Well. I had expected Mister Potter to be here..." tried the old man.

"He's _not_ here," interrupted Cygnus. "Now, again, what is this delicate matter of utmost importance relating to _my_ family business you wanted to speak to me about?"

"Well, as the matter relates to Mister Potter, I was hoping to also speak with him about it," replied Dumbledore.

"Then perhaps if you had been more forthcoming with that information, Albus, I might have been able to arrange a time with Mister Potter when he would be here," said an irritated Lord Greengrass. "However, it appears you have wasted both your own time and _mine_.

"I suggest, in future, you be clear in what it is you want - _in advance_ - of any meeting with me, instead of leaving it to chance. Now, since he isn't here and our Houses are now in open alliance, I give you my word I will pass on anything and all of what it is you wish to speak with him about."

"Yes. It appears I _have_ caught you at a bad time," said Dumbledore, quickly rising to his feet. "I had best be on my way. Thank you for your time."

With that, Dumbledore quickly strode the few steps to the fireplace, drawing a small container of floo powder out of his robes as he moved. With a dash of powder and a call of, "Headmasters Office, Hogwarts!" he was on his way.

While muttering, "Stupid old man!" Cygnus reached behind the cushion of the chair on which he sat and drew out to sit on his lap the ward ledger. He quickly opened it to the right page and, drawing a self inking quill from his robes, crossed out the name Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore before blowing on it to dry the ink and closing it again.

With the ledger tucked under his arm he stood and took a couple of steps before he frowned and turned back. Drawing his own wand he waved it about with a few muttered incantations. Getting no response to his casting, he mentally shrugged and muttered, "I wouldn't have put it past you, you old fool."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Over at Lily's Pad, Harry and Daphne were enjoying a wonderful English breakfast quickly prepared by Ninny. Both Harry and Daphne apologised to the lovely little elf for not giving her advance notice; and told her to take her time preparing breakfast.

They had thought to have a small table moved out onto the balcony so they could sit at it while enjoying their breakfast, but quickly decided it was too cold outside. Instead, they were sitting at the dining table in the dining nook.

Harry had managed to disappear down into the Alley for a few minutes while they were waiting for breakfast and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet and Teen Witch Weekly.

Both pre-teens now sat in companionable silence while reading their respective publications.

Once he'd finished breaking his fast, Harry could see that Daphne was now sitting back drinking from a tea cup with one hand while holding her magazine with the other. Picking up his own tea cup Harry mimicked her.

"Anything interesting in yours, Daph?" he quietly asked.

"A bit of information on the fashions at the Yule Ball," she said. "Who wore what and how it looked on them. Lord Mulciber made an arse of himself; but, that's not so unusual. The Spring line of fashion will be in the stores soon. Again, they always announce that right after Christmas.

"Ooooh - There's a new designer coming to work at Twillfit and Tattings from Europe. I'll have to see if I can get Mum to make an appointment for me early this coming summer.

"And - there's a new product range of beauty products at Madam Primpernelle's. They've managed to contract with a renown potions mistress in Europe.

"Earth shaking, I'm sure," said Harry.

Daphne replied, "Don't be snarky, Harry James. These are important matters to us girls."

"I apologise, my Lady," said Harry. "You are, as always, correct."

Daphne didn't even bother to respond.

"_On_ to the other matters within wizarding Britain," said Harry. "The Daily Prophet have managed to steal a journalist from the Witch Weekly; a woman named Rita Skeeter. That was the name of the woman reporter Mister Wordsworth mentioned at Sirius's trial. He made her seem like a gossip columnist who writes untruths."

"She is," said Daphne. "She wrote a horrid piece about our betrothal back in September."

With a frown, Harry looked Daphne in the eye and asked, "Why am I only hearing of this now?"

"Because you were in the hospital and no one wanted to see you get upset again," she calmly replied. "You would have; and you know it."

"So," he muttered, "we plan on staying away from her; and asking our friends to do the same."

Daphne nodded and said, "Good idea."

Turning back to the paper, Harry said, "There's an article that looks like it was written by the Minister, himself. It says he worked over Christmas demonstrating he's such a hard worker for the people of Magical Britain - blah blah blah.

"Oooh - There's a new broom company just starting out called Bolt Brooms. They hope to have a prototype out by Christmas 1992. They're aiming for the broom that will be recognised as a true Quidditch player's broom. I wonder if I can get in on that and provide some start-up capital."

"You'd likely be throwing away gold," she replied. "There's already Nimbus, Cleansweep and Comet in Britain alone. And they all released new broom models this year: the Nimbus 2000, the Cleansweep Seven and the Comet Two Sixty. They have only a _very_ tiny chance of getting anything worthwhile to market."

With a sigh, Harry said, "You're right. But, it would be just the _best_ thing to be part of that."

After breakfast both kids decided they had plenty of time to kill so went down to the bank.

Harry was quickly through to see Bloodfang, who confirmed for Harry that his property had been recovered from Dumbledore. He also informed Harry that a Potter elf had been by and collected the books to return them to the Potter library.

"Yes, I should have thought to warn you of that," he said. "I apologise I did not."

Soon after his meeting he and Daphne went down to his vaults.

Harry was shown the two magical artefacts that were recovered, the cloak and the pensieve. As the cloak was light enough, and able to be folded into a very small wad, Harry folded it up and pocketed it to take back with them.

Looking at the pensieve he could see it still contained memories, so he decided he'd get Bloodfang to collect the memories out of the pensieve and send them to him. If Dumbledore was a good boy he'd return them early. But, if he became just as much a nuisance as the first term, he'd delay their return, and use Dumbledore's own excuses against him.

Together, the kids left the bank. Harry asked if Daphne needed anything before they returned to Lily's Pad. As she didn't, they just went straight back to the apartment.

With a quick Time Charm, Harry realised it was time to return to Greengrass Estate.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	30. Returned

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty - Returned**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"I know it sounds trite but, 'Told you so!'" said Harry with a grin.

As soon as they returned to Greengrass Estate they found the others all in the informal dining room, except for Sirius. Harry assumed he was still abed.

Cygnus told them both about how Dumbledore arrived only five minutes after they'd left; how he was overtly hinting that he was really there to see Harry; and how Cygnus also didn't respond to his questions couched as passive statements.

When he mentioned Dumbledore tried to push more overtly to speak to Harry he mentioned how he pushed back flatly stating Harry wasn't there, and that he should have mentioned he wanted to speak to Harry in the first place. And then how Dumbledore left in a right huff.

"All up the meeting only took about five minutes," said Cygnus.

"I'm surprised he didn't try to invite himself for breakfast so he could remain here and wait for my return," said Harry.

"He couldn't, because that would then put the lie to him saying he had to move the meeting up because of other commitments," said Cygnus. "He painted himself into a corner with that one."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Starting on the 2nd of January, Harry taught Cygnus and Isabel how to pull magic into themselves. And used the same breathing-in example to effect them accomplishing it.

Just as with the Seven, he told them they needed to practice it, and asked them not to go sharing it around.

He left on his own with Sirius that afternoon for some 'boys' time' at Black House in London. Sirius made sure Harry was cleared through the wards before coming to collect him. So, Harry was able to floo directly to the house in the cul-de-sac of Grimmauld Place.

When he entered he could see the room they were in was actually still quite shabby. However, he was invited to have a look through some of the other rooms. Seeing _them_, he realised the room in which he arrived was actually quite presentable in comparison.

Sirius then took him down to the kitchen where he was introduced to Remus Lupin.

When Harry shook the man's hand and said, "Hello Moony."

The two adults were taken aback.

"Harry," asked Remus. "Who told you that name?"

Harry glanced at Sirius and said, "Thank you for not telling even him."

Harry then turned back to the other man and said, "I heard Dad call you that many years ago."

Seeing the frown on Remus's face, Harry knew the man thought he was being pranked. With a sigh, he asked, "What do you understand about an eidetic memory, Moony?"

"Perfect recall, right?" replied Moony.

"Yes," replied Harry with a nod. "Perfect recall - of everything; sight, sound, smell, taste and touch. I have an eidetic memory enhanced by a full mindscape."

Remus sat back in the kitchen chair he was first sitting in. His face held an expression of surprise and awe, looking back at Harry. "Everything?" he asked.

"Everything," replied Harry.

"So, you know I'm a werewolf," said Remus.

"Yep."

"And it doesn't bother you?"

"Nope," replied Harry. "I remember it was Dad who kept saying it was a 'furry little problem'. I know it as a disease that afflicts you most overtly around the full moon.

"I also know there was a full moon on the 21st of last month and that it was going to take you quite a few days to get over the forced transformation. And that's why I didn't see you.

"However, you have no reason to fear I would reject you. Because I won't. I know you were one of my parents' closest friends and a honourary uncle to me. And I know you would spend time often at Potter Manor."

"Told you!" said Sirius from behind Harry.

Remus first looked up at his friend before looking down at the table and sighing. "I - I'm just used to people turning away from me in disgust when they - find out," he said.

"The only time I'll ever look at you in disgust is if you put yourself down in front of me one too many times," said Harry. "I don't like people doing that."

"Now," turning around to look at his godfather, Harry said, "As for you. I can see you _really_ need the help of the Potter elves in here, so don't be bashful in calling on them; alright?"

"Alright, Harry," replied Sirius. "I will."

"Thank you," said Harry. "Now I know this is supposed to be Harry and his godfather getting to know each other time; but, would you like to learn how I make my magic flare as I promised I would the day I arrived back at Greengrass Estate for Christmas holidays?"

"Yeah, actually," said Sirius.

"Flare your magic?" asked Remus.

"Mm-hmm," replied Harry. "Sirius has already seen me do it and I promised I'd teach him. If you'd like to watch it'll only take a few minutes. Then, I'll work with you."

Sirius came around and eagerly sat at the table with Harry and Remus. "Alright," he said. "How do we begin?"

Then Harry began to teach the trick using the now tried and true method. It only took about ten minutes for Sirius to get it. And the first time Sirius got his magic to significantly flare Remus's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open in shock.

After Sirius tried for the third time accomplishing it with his eyes open, Harry told him to stop before he over did it.

"_Daaaammmnnn_!" said Remus, once he got his voice back.

"That's what _I_ said!" said Sirius in glee.

"And you can do that, Cub?" asked Remus of Harry.

"Yes," replied Harry. "And I can now do it more powerfully and hold it for longer. Plus, I've also been practicing casting spells while doing it and I'm finding my magic much stronger as a result."

"_Daaaammmnnn_!" said Remus, again.

"I know you closely watched what I was doing with Sirius; but, do you want me to help you through it?" asked Harry.

Thinking a bit, Remus said, "Let me see if I can get the basics of it first. If I struggle, then you can guide me, alright?"

"Alright," replied Harry with a nod.

Harry and Sirius then watched Remus concentrate for a bit. They then watched as he took in a few deep breaths. Then, on the third breath, they noticed his magic start to leak. Another breath and he did it again, stronger.

In less time than with Sirius, Remus was sitting with his eyes open and glowing but unfocussed. And magic was swirling around him in long surges.

"Don't hold it too long, Moony," warned Harry. "Let it out completely now and you'll see just how tired you are."

Both then watched as Moony settled down again and the glow in his eyes faded away. A few seconds later and he looked like he wanted to slump forward onto the table top.

"_Daaaammmnnn_!" he said for the third time.

"Now both of you need to set aside a part of your day, each day, to practice it; holding it for longer and longer each time," said Harry. "Then, once you can hold it for at least three minutes, you might want to try spell casting while doing it. But, be careful, you'll find your casts to be somewhat overpowered when you do."

Sirius said, "Alright. I feel rested a bit now and nowhere near as tired as I did before you started teaching Moony. I want to see how fast I can start doing it without having to go through that whole breathing training, first."

With a nod, Harry said, "Go for it."

Sirius's mien took on a look of concentration for a few moments before he rapidly began effusing magic and had glowing eyes. He held it for about fifteen seconds and then let it relax out of him.

He, too, almost slumped forward onto the table.

"Merlin, that takes it out of you!" he said.

"Magic is like a muscle," said Harry. "It needs to be exercised. So, you're going to need to practice it every day. You'll soon get up to speed with it."

Looking around a little Harry asked, "Is there anything to drink here?"

"Oh!" said Sirius. "Not the very good host, am I? Kreacher!"

An elderly and ugly house elf appeared and started muttering, "What does the filthy blood traitor..."

"Enough!" said Sirius. "Kreacher, three butterbeers, please."

The elf popped away and returned a few moments later with the required three beverages.

Harry first had a butterbeer when he was living in the Alley. He was disappointed to learn they didn't have it at Hogwarts. However, he was assured it could be purchased in Hogsmeade and brought back to the castle _if_ he could find a Third Year or up who would be willing to purchase it for him.

Sirius quickly banished the caps off the bottles and the three wizards spent the time drinking them reminiscing about Harry's parents.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the day of return to Hogwarts, Sunday the 5th January, the Greengrass household was up early and ready in plenty of time. Daphne and Harry had packed ready the previous night, with Daphne bringing in a set of Hogwarts robes to put in Harry's trunk on top of his things.

Harry sent Hedwig back to Hogwarts as soon as she rested after delivering him his morning's Daily Prophet. He had her things packed away soon afterwards.

Going to Daphne's room he knocked and was bid enter. Inside, Daphne was clearly doing a final check before closing and locking her trunk.

Glancing over at it and seeing how over-full it was, he asked, "How on earth do you intend to close that?"

"It'll close," she half-snarked.

"Oh, I'm sure it will," he calmly replied. "But, if you have anything fragile in there, I'm worried you're going to break it."

"It'll be fine," she said.

She packed one last item of 'civilian' garb on top and muttered, "That'll do it." And closed the lid.

Though, it didn't quite close all the way down, she sat down heavily on the lid and managed to get the catch to lock.

"See?" she said, indicating the trunk. "I told you it'd close."

Harry just laughed in response. "Do you want me to levitate it down to the parlour for you?"

"Of course," she said. "That's one of the reasons I keep you around for, is it not?"

Releasing his wand from the holster, Harry didn't bother to reply. He just levitated the trunk and led it down to sit on top of his own next to the fireplace. Daphne followed to make sure he didn't drop it.

"Well," she said. "Now that's done I want to make sure we arrive at the Station in plenty of time to meet up with the others."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Arriving at the muggle side of Platform 9 ¾ at just after 10.30am, Harry was happy to see the Grangers had only just arrived before them.

"Wendell! Monica! Hermione!" he called in greeting. The Grangers immediately spun about and Monica enveloped him in a quick hug. He shook hands with Wendell and immediately gave Hermione a hug before she could launch herself at him for one of her grapple-hugs.

Harry and Daphne were escorted to the Station by Isabel and Tori. Cygnus and Sirius were in last minute preparations for a closely approaching Wizengamot session and were unable to attend. Remus begged off saying he still wasn't comfortable being around too many witches and wizards in one place, such as the platform.

The Grangers sent their owl to Cygnus on the 2nd January stating they would be honoured to become protectees of House Greengrass. And only yesterday evening, while they were wearing brand new everyday wizarding robes, did Cygnus perform the ritual. Both were amazed how the crest of House Greengrass suddenly appeared on their left shoulders.

Today, they were all wearing normal muggle attire, as were many wizarding families, such as the Greengrasses.

"I was just about to go through to the platform," said Hermione.

"Then we shall go through together," said Harry.

After spending a few minutes with the Granger parents the Greengrass party headed through the barrier onto the platform.

Carefully moving through the crowds, Harry and Daphne with Hermione in tow meandered down the length of the platform looking for their friends.

Finding none of them he offered to get the trunks on board into a spare compartment. The girls glanced at each other and smiled before turning back.

Daphne said, "That would be nice, Harry."

Picking up his own with a levitation charm, Harry led it onto the train and started searching for a free cabin. He found one in the last carriage.

Levitating his trunk up he stored it in the overhead racks and exited the train to grab the other two.

Quickly, he had Hermione's trunk on top of Daphne's and levitated both onto the train. So concentrating was he, he didn't notice the looks of surprise he was getting from those nearby.

Less than a minute later he had both Daphne's and Hermione's trunks alongside his own in the racks in their compartment. For safety, he pulled the door shut behind him and locked it.

Within the next ten minutes he greeted and assisted with their trunks Susan, Hannah, and Tracey. Neville insisted on getting his own trunk onboard but accepted Harry's help in getting it into the overheads.

He was only able to spend a few minutes greeting Aunt Amelia and Gran before the Seven had to board. The five minute whistle had sounded a little while ago.

When they arrived at Hogsmeade Station about seven hours later, Harry was pleased they wouldn't be riding the little boats to the castle, this time. When he asked about it, he was told it only occurred for the first trip to give the new First Years a unique view of the castle.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As soon as they disembarked the carriages in front of the front door of the castle they were stopped by Professor Snape.

The Potions Master looked at Harry and said, "The Headmaster wants to see you, immediately before the feast."

With a sigh, Harry said, "Very well, I shall collect Professor Flitwick and we shall be there momentarily."

The professor stared at him and almost snarled, "When the Headmaster says 'immediately' he means precisely _that_, Mister Potter."

'And when the school charter states no student shall be summoned to such a meeting without being accompanied, when requested, by their Head of House, _it_ means precisely that, Professor Snape," replied Harry.

The professor glared back for a moment before he spun about with a swirl of his robes and stalked back inside.

Harry turned to Daphne and asked, "Have your glasses with you?"

"Always," she replied with a knowing smile.

With Daphne on his arm, Harry walked into the castle and into the Great Hall. As he expected, Professor Flitwick was already there.

Walking up to the head table he looked at the small professor and said, "I've just been given a message by Professor Snape the Headmaster wishes to see me before the feast."

The professor frowned and said, "Such messages should come through me, Mister Potter, as your Head of House."

"Nevertheless, Professor," said Harry. "That is what happened."

With a sigh, the Professor hopped down off his chair and indicated for the two to follow him.

They left through the teacher's entrance as it was the quickest path to the headmaster's office.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Walking up the hallway towards the gargoyle, Harry said, "I'm beginning to believe I need to request quarters in this part of the castle; what with the number of times I keep being summoned here."

"And I would seek quarters right alongside," said Daphne. "I don't think I can trust you not to get into trouble without my calming influence near you."

As they entered the office Dumbledore said, "I believe I told Professor Snape I wanted to speak with you immediately upon your arrival, Mister Potter."

"And I gathered that Professor Snape was in error by telling me precisely that, Headmaster," replied Harry. "After all, it would be a breach of the school charter for you to do something so foolish. And I doubt you'd risk your tenure here to do such a thing."

With a long last look, Dumbledore looked away and down to the chair before his desk. With a swish of his wand he reconfigured it into a wide low couch and bade them to sit.

"Now, Mister Potter, the reason I wanted to speak with you so urgently is because I was worried about you," he said with his concerned grandfatherly visage firmly in place. "You informed me you were going to spend Christmas with your Aunt Petunia and I was disappointed..."

"Sorry, Headmaster," interrupted Harry. "But, I did no such thing."

Almost glaring at him, Dumbledore said, "I distinctly remember a conversation I had with you before the holidays where you told me you were going to do precisely that."

"No, Headmaster," said Harry. "I informed you I would be spending the holidays with my family. And I did - precisely - that. I do not consider my aunt Petunia, or her brood, as family."

The Headmaster was doing a poor job of not showing his anger.

"It is important you spend time in the home of your aunt, Mister Potter," he said. "The blood wards there need recharging; and that can only happen with your presence within the house."

"Why?" asked Harry in not a little anger, himself.

"The wards are based on the blood that courses through your and your aunt's veins, Mister Potter," explained Dumbledore in anger. "As long as you call your aunt's home your own the protections afforded you by those wards are the strongest they can be."

Harry scoffed and said, "Privett Drive was _never_ my home, Headmaster..."

Suddenly, one of Dumbledore's little wheezing trinkets suddenly gave a cough, trembled slightly and then sparked with a flash and expulsion of black smoke.

"What on earth was that?" exclaimed Harry.

"That, as you put it," said Dumbledore in an angry but disappointed voice, "was the blood wards on Privett Drive collapsing."

"You had a monitor in place?" asked Daphne in shock. "Who gave you _permission_ to do that?"

"_I_ set the wards in place, Miss Greengrass," he replied. "Of _course_ I would have monitors to ensure they were working correctly."

"So, you warded a muggle house," said Daphne. "With wards based on blood. Any other illegal acts you want to admit to while we're sitting here?"

Dumbledore didn't respond.

"So, you placed up these super wards," she continued. "How did you power them? I would not have thought there'd be a suitable ley line in reach you could tap into."

Dumbledore looked away, quite abashed.

"You didn't!" exclaimed Daphne. "Please, tell me you didn't power them off a _muggle_?"

"I am _not_ required to answer your questions, Miss Greengrass. You forget where you are," said the Headmaster.

"However, as the warding actually relates only to people, there is sufficient magical energy in the area to power them," said Dumbledore.

"Then why is my presence required?" asked Harry.

"Because you provide, or did provide, the magical presence required to anchor it in place," he replied. "You gave magic the intent. And the intent required you to call Privett Drive your home."

"Well," said Harry, quite angrily. "You realise, of course, that if you had been more forthcoming with this information, then it is probable this little issue would not have arisen at all.

"Mind you, since the muggle legal authorities have deemed fit that aunt Petunia and I are not to come anywhere _near_ each other in future, the wards would have fallen sooner or later, anyway."

"I - pardon?" stuttered Dumbledore.

"The muggle authorities have made it a condition of aunt Petunia's punishment that she, nor my cousin Dudley, is to come within one hundred feet of me. So, there's no legal way I could have returned to Privett Drive without forcing Petunia and Dudley out of the house in the process.

"And, since I cannot legally force her out of her home - it is recognised as her sanctuary - then it is _I_ who is legally required not to be within one hundred feet of 4 Privett Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.

"So you see, Albus," said Harry, leaning forward and staring back at the old man. "I am not allowed, by legal fiat, to return to Privett Drive until such time as my aunt and her family vacate the property for another. Even if I _wanted_ to call Privett Drive my home, I can no longer do that."

The old man sighed and sat back. "I - did not know that," he quietly said.

"That's because it's _none_ of your business!" snapped Harry, quite angry. "You are the headmaster of this school. What happens beyond its wards regarding any of your students is _none_ of your concern. Stay out of my business!"

Sitting in silence for a while, the old man finally spoke up and said, "There are other matters I wish to speak with you about, Harry; but considering the mood at the moment it would be best if we spoke about it at another time. Now, I do believe we are missing the feast and I find myself rather looking forward to a delicious slice of custard tart for desserts. You may go."

Not a little frustrated with the old man, Harry rose, assisted Daphne in rising, and escorted her from the office.

Once outside, Harry growled out, "Stupid, meddling, old _fool_!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the first Wednesday evening after they'd returned to the castle, Harry and the others were approached in the Great Hall by Draco Malfoy and his two bully boys.

The day had been a good one, Harry felt, as Dumbledore had finally managed to find them a DADA teacher. That meant he would have even _less_ interactions with the Headmaster.

The DADA Professor was a man newly retired from the auror corps who was looking for a few extra galleons to take with him into retirement. The man, Professor Bolstein, was a veteran of the 1970's war, when he was a senior auror within a ready reaction force.

The Professor was stern and curt with the students, but scrupulously fair. And, when he taught spells, he also gave examples where such were used or could be used. Harry loved his teaching style.

However, he also said he would only be there until the end of the year; when he was looking forward to retiring to a warm beach, somewhere, and putting cold and dreary Britain far behind himself.

"Potter," sneered Malfoy.

"Ah!" said Harry. "Mister Malfoy. If you've come to ask for a boon or such I'm afraid you'll be sorely disappointed."

"I want nothing from you, Potter," he sneered, but clearly angered by Harry's remark. "I've come to challenge you to a wizard's duel."

"Really?" asked Harry, displaying amusement. "Then you're a lot braver than I thought. Either that, or you're inherently stupid."

Now clearly furious, the blond boy snarled, "I will not be made fun of in front of my friends, Potter. I demand satisfaction!"

"Why?" asked Harry. "Your right hand not giving it to you any more? I'm actually surprised you've advanced enough through puberty that you're even capable of such an act."

That elicited a number of sniggers and laughter from those who heard. Even bully boy number one cracked a bit of a small smile at that one.

"I challenge you to a duel, Potter," he snarled. In a quieter voice he ominously said, "Trophy Room; at midnight."

"Well, I accept the challenge of a wizard's duel, Mister Malfoy," said Harry a bit louder. "However, I'm afraid holding one in the trophy room after curfew would break the rules. Therefore, we shall hold it right now."

Harry rose from the table and, looking towards the head table, said, "Mister Malfoy has just challenged me, in public, to a wizard's duel. I have accepted. Professor Flitwick, as a duelling master, I ask that you officiate and we get it out of the way right now."

"_What?_" said Malfoy, clearly startled by the development.

Professor Flitwick clapped his hands a couple of times in glee and hurried around the head table to stand in front of it.

"I challenged you to a wizard's duel _in the trophy room_, Potter," tried Malfoy.

"No, you did not, Mister Malfoy," replied Harry with a smirk. "As you did not attempt to provide conditions first; you challenged me to an _open_ wizard's duel. Only _then_ did you attempt to name the time and place.

"I, as the challenged, and as per the rules of wizard duels, name the time and place. And I name right here and right now."

Dumbledore stood and said, "This wizard's duel will _not_ be open, Mister Potter and Mister Malfoy. You are limited to non-lethal spells, no unforgivables, and the duel will end on International competition rules of one participant or the other being rendered unable to continue, or bowing out. There shall be no Seconds."

Harry bowed to the old man and said, "As you wish, Headmaster."

Meantime, Professor Flitwick had configured a duelling platform across the hall just in front of the head table, and was in the process of configuring wards to protect everyone else.

"Harry," whispered Daphne, standing up and stepping close to him showing a little fear. "Are you _sure_ about this?"

Harry nodded and said, "Yeah, I've kind of been expecting something like this. If not from Malfoy, it would have been someone else, especially from Slytherin, sooner or later."

Looking over at Malfoy, Harry could see the boy had turned quite white with fear.

"Gentlemen," said Professor Flitwick. "The duelling platform is ready for you. Please take your places."

Harry quickly mounted the platform and stood waiting at the Gryffindor end.

Malfoy, clearly quite reluctantly, moved up and mounted the platform at the Slytherin end. He knew he had gotten himself into the situation. However, he could not back out without appearing weak.

"Gentlemen," said Professor Flitwick clearly and firmly. "You have chosen to engage in a wizard's duel. The rules, as per International competition rules, include no unforgivables, no clearly lethal curses, and ends when either participant is unable to continue, or leaves the platform. No spells may be cast once it becomes _immediately_ apparent either participant is unable to continue or leaves the platform.

"Wands out; we begin when I say 'three'; if it does not end earlier, it ends when I say 'halt'.

Harry flicked his wand out into his hand and stood slightly leading with his right side, right foot forward but with his weight evenly distributed between his two feet.

Seeing both ready, Professor Flitwick called, "One - two - THREE!"

Harry allowed Malfoy to cast the first spell, an Expulsion Curse, _Expulso_, that would have flung Harry off the back of the platform if it hit. It was good choice as the incantation was quick and the wand movement a short flick and jab motion.

However, Malfoy cast in a bit of a panic and it didn't even require Harry to move as it clearly missed him to his left.

Harry chuckled back before, almost lazily and quietly, hitting Malfoy with a Disarming Spell. Though given quietly and almost gently, Harry's _Expelliarmus_ struck Malfoy's wand, clearly hurting the boy's wand hand, and causing his hawthorn wand to gently flip through the air as it passed beyond the wards and clattered to the floor next to the Hufflepuff table.

"_Halt_!" snapped out the Professor as soon as the wand left the warded area.

Malfoy stood there cradling his hand and glaring murderously back at Harry.

"Madam Pomfrey, if you would?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry said in a denigrating tone, "_Really_, Mister Malfoy; you may want to consider learning to _shield_ before you approach me for a duel, in future. It really wasn't worth the effort Professor Flitwick went through to set up the duelling platform in the first place."

As Madam Pomfrey was checking Malfoy's hand she said, "Ooh-ooh!" *Tsk, tsk, tsk* "It's broken, dear boy. Two fingers, the thumb and one in the hand itself."

With her arm wrapped around his shoulders, the medi-witch guided Malfoy off the platform and towards the doors and said, "What an absolutely silly thing to do. Challenging someone to a duel when you cannot even cast a basic shield? _Honestly_!"

Harry returned to his friends with a hug from Daphne and congratulatory praises from those nearby.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	31. My Valentine

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty One - Valentine**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

It wasn't until mid the next week before Dumbledore, once more, summoned Harry to his office.

Walking in with Daphne and Professor Flitwick, Harry said, "You know, Albus, I'm rapidly getting to the stage where I'm considering having my own personal chairs installed in here."

Dumbledore just smiled and transfigured the chair before his desk into a better version of the love seat Harry had created towards the end of last year.

'He definitely wants something,' he thought, looking askance at Daphne as he assisted her into her seat. He could see Daphne had reached the same conclusion.

After he'd sat down, Dumbledore had his eyes twinkling away with his beloved grandfather expression on; and asked, "And how are you today, Harry?"

"I'm alright, thank you, Albus," said Harry. "And so, I believe, is Miss Greengrass."

"Hmmm..." said Dumbledore. "I needed to talk with you concerning some items that were removed from my office and quarters here just after Christmas Day."

"You think I may have stolen them, Albus?" asked Harry with an expression of shock bordering on righteous indignation.

"No, no!" he quickly replied. "I believe, however, that agents acting on your behalf took them not knowing I had _your father's_ permission to hold onto them for a while."

"Ah!" said Harry. "That would be the same permission I clearly and conclusively revoked soon after the beginning of the school year. You'll also recall that at the beginning of November I clearly informed you that you had until Christmas Day to return that which still remained in your possession or control; or, I would make arrangements for them to be taken from you.

"I believe that recovery did, indeed, take place soon after Christmas Day. Would those be the items to which you refer?"

Instead of answering, Dumbledore ignored the question and said, "I had a number of my very private memories taken when the goblins came and took my pensieve that..."

"_My_ pensieve, Albus," interrupted Harry. "It was, after all, clearly marked with the Potter Crest."

There was a slight hesitation from the old man before he said, "Quite. Now, there were a number of my personal and very private memories within - the pensieve when it was taken. I would like to have them back."

"I see," said Harry.

"Now I would like to accompany you to where my - the - pensieve is currently stored, so I may recover my memories as soon as possible," said the old man. "I've rearranged part of my schedule so we may depart here on Saturday morning to journey to - the current location of the pensieve so I may effect recovery."

"Well, you see, Albus," said Harry adopting his own grandfatherly mien. "I'm afraid that won't be possible."

He could see the old man began to bristle slightly so held up his hand in a calming gesture. "Calm yourself, Albus."

"Now, the _reason_ I said it won't be possible, is you are operating under the mistaken belief the memories that were within _my_ pensieve when I first saw it after it was recovered, are still within the pensieve. I do not believe that is the case."

Eyes no longer twinkling, Dumbledore asked, "And where would they be?"

"I may have to ask the goblins," replied Harry. "I asked them to remove them."

With a well-shrouded but still visible panicky look, Dumbledore leaned forward and said, "It is _imperative_ I have my memories returned, Mister Potter. I cannot _impress_ upon you enough that my memories are returned to my person with all haste."

"I understand, Headmaster. I have experience with being upset when that which rightfully belongs to you, is denied you." Pretending to consider the request for a while, Harry said, "Well, I suppose I could contact my Account Keeper within Gringotts and arrange matters with him. I shall organise for your memories to be returned - if, of course, they're still available and haven't be destroyed - and, as you put it, with all haste."

Harry was having quite a bit of fun subtly watching the war of emotions flit over the old man's face as he spoke.

"Yes," said Harry. "I shall send an owl concerning your memories this very evening, Headmaster."

"It would be best, Harry, if we were to head to Gringotts first thing Saturday morning," tried the old man.

"No, Albus," said Harry with a look of sorrow but firm voice. "The goblins were quite _upset_ with me that I did not respond to the many communications they sent to me during my - sojourn in _Durz_kaban - my little name for the Dursley residence, you understand. And it took me what felt like _forever_ to sufficiently convince them I had nothing to do with the owl mail redirection placed upon my own personal prison or self. Nor, that I knew it was even there.

"So, I find myself quite reluctant to further harm my reborn and budding relationship with Gringotts for what is essentially a matter of importance to you; not to me. No; I cannot risk it, Albus. I shall send an owl and you may await the small delay."

With a long pause before speaking, Dumbledore clearly reluctantly said, "Very well, Harry. I expect to see my memories returned within the next couple of days."

"And I hope you will not be _too_ disappointed if it is discovered the memories have been destroyed," replied Harry.

"Something we can both hope for, Harry," said the old man. "Thank you for your time. You may go."

While he had had his fun with the Headmaster, Harry didn't want to push matters too far lest it be discovered the memories were actually up in Harry's trunk in the Ravenclaw First Year boys dorm.

On Saturday morning, after breakfast, Harry sent the small bundle containing the memories in a large goblin-forged jar up to the Headmaster's office via Hedwig. The note he attached only said that he hoped all the headmaster's missing memories were contained within.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Slowly, the icy grip of winter began to give way to early Spring. And the relaxed state of Hermione tightened very quickly into a frazzle where she became very focussed on the end of year exams.

The others became very used to her shortened temper and tended to just go with the flow. Some of what she wanted to do to get ready for exams, the group was willing to comply with. They were, after all, good ideas. But, to some of it, they just paid lip service.

During the lead up to Valentine's Day, Harry was more concerned about his gift for Daphne than he was about school work. He even asked the other girls what they thought would be a good gift for her. But, most times they just cryptically said, 'Just be romantic.'

When he asked Neville, the boy just replied, "How would I know?" And when he asked his dorm mates they just snickered and gave him unhelpful, and sometimes ribald, worthless suggestions.

With only a week to go he finally decided to pull out the communications mirror Sirius had given him and taught him how to use when he stayed a couple of days at Grimmauld Place.

Opening it, he whispered, "Padfoot," onto the surface of the glass and waited.

A few minutes later his reflection blurred out to be replaced with his godfather's face.

"Hello, Pup," said Sirius by way of greeting. "It's nice to see you've remembered the mirrors. What can I do for you?"

"I - ummm - need some help in coming up with ideas for Valentine's Day," replied Harry, a little uncomfortable. "For Daphne."

"Well. My godson has decided to ask his dear godfather for help in being romantic for his lady," Sirius seemed to beam. With a mock sniffle and dabbing of his eyes, he said, "This is exactly the sort of thing I dreamed I would be helping you with when I agreed to the honour."

With a groan, Harry said, "Sirius, please. There's only a week to go and I'm at a loss."

"Alright, Pup," his godfather relented. "I would suggest talking with the elves and seeing if you can arrange a romantic dinner for two somewhere within the castle. But, that's for the evening.

"In the morning I suggest you have a rose, or roses, delivered to her at either breakfast with a nice card; or maybe a single rose delivered to her pillow with a nice note by the house elves. Your father did the latter for your mother in their sixth year."

"Alright," said Harry calming down. He began muttering, "A rose - a white rose - No, two rosebuds. One red and one white, intertwined and thornless. With a small card. I'll have it left on her bedside table. She'll see it when she wakes up without it being _too_ close."

"An excellent choice," said Sirius. "Do you know the colour and presentation has meaning?"

"Yes," replied Harry. "A red rosebud is symbolic of purity and loveliness, a white rosebud is symbolic of feminine youth, thornless symbolises love, and two intertwined is symbolic of marriage."

"A good combination," said Sirius. "Now, what about for the evening?"

"I think I'm going to break school rules and have one of the Potter elves prepare a nice dinner for two. It'll be a Friday so, for tradition, I think we'll have fish."

"Breaking the rules for something so important is worth it," said Sirius firmly. "And you may as well use one of the Potter elves to deliver your twined roses in the morning.

"And, if you're going for fish, try a Semillon - alcohol free, of course. It's quite sweet. And I'm sure there's some in the Potter Mansion wine racks. James - your father - told me once it was the white wine to which Potter children are first introduced."

"Wow!" said Harry. "I should have asked you about this _ages_ ago."

"Then why _didn't_ you, dear boy?" grinned his godfather.

"Because I sometimes forget adults know things, too," replied Harry with a cheeky grin.

"Scamp!" his godfather mock-scowled.

"Thank you, godfather," said Harry, a little more serious.

"You're welcome," said Sirius. "And don't forget to let me know how it goes."

"I will," replied Harry.

Before signing off, he asked Sirius to loan his mirror to Isabel for the Friday night as he expected Daphne might like to talk to her Mum, that night.

Sirius was more than happy to comply.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the week leading up to Valentine's Day, Harry swore Tracey to secrecy and quizzed the girl on how the First Year Slytherin girls' dorms were laid out. From her, he learned that Daphne's bed was in the back left corner, that she didn't have a bedside table, but did have a shelf built into the headboard. That she left on there a hair tie to tie back her hair when showering in the mornings, as well as a few other knickknacks. And that Daphne always rose just before 7.00am on a school day, so the two of them would get to the showers first.

With that information he was ready to instruct a Potter house elf with what to do on the morning. As for Friday evening, he'd already talked to Cookie about the meal he wanted prepared, and when it was to be served. And he'd talked to Petey about setting up the Come and Go room for him and being ready to serve.

During the week while in his dorm after curfew, he organised for and magically twined the thornless stems of a white rosebud and red rosebud together, and tied them with a sapphire coloured ribbon. He managed to get a beautiful small card, wrote within it, and tied with the ribbon to the roses. Then placed the lot under a stasis charm until Petey collected it during the early morning of Friday morning.

The only clue he gave to Daphne he was planning something, was during one of the group's times in the library when he said, "I think, after Herbology on Friday, I'm going to have a really hot shower and dress _really_ nicely. No school robes for Friday night." Turning to look directly at Daphne he asked, "Do you think you might consider dressing up on Friday night, Daphne?"

The girls, except for Daphne, all tittered while Neville looked a little confused. Blushing a bit, Daphne just looked at him and nodded before she finally said, "I think - that sounds like - a good idea."

"Then how about I meet with you at the bottom of the secret passage from the dungeons to the seventh floor and escort you to dinner that night?" he asked. "Say, five-thirty?"

"I'd like that," she softly replied.

Neville was sitting alongside Hannah so he carefully leaned over to her and quietly asked, "What's so special about Friday?"

Hannah hesitated a moment before turning her head to him and lightly kissing his cheek. Then she reached up with her off-hand and lightly cupped his opposite cheek before she whispered into his ear.

When Hannah suddenly kissed him, he blushed bright red. But, when she whispered into his ear, his eyes widened in surprise. He quickly looked at both Harry and Daphne before looking at the other three girls.

He then sat up a little straighter, firmed his shoulders and seemed to come to a decision.

On the Thursday after classes Harry slipped a note to each of the others informing them he was taking Daphne to the Come and Go Room the next night for dinner, so they wouldn't be missed. And begged them to keep it to themselves.

Harry had a restless night sleep, that night. And was one of the first down for breakfast. He sat at the Hufflepuff table because it was between the Ravenclaw and Slytherin tables. And that day was truly about loyalty and friendship.

At first he thought he wasn't hungry because he felt his stomach was a little upset with worry. But, once he sat down, the mouth-watering smells of breakfast led him to build a decent plate of food.

His friends, except for the two Slytherins, had joined him before he saw out of the corner of his eye someone run into the Hall. Quickly looking up he realised it was Daphne. She was holding the twinned roses in her hand, and holding it to her chest.

Spotting them sitting at the Hufflepuff table, her eyes widen slightly before she ran over and pulled Harry up from his seat before saying anything.

Standing up and facing her, she immediately threw her arms around his neck and forcefully snogged him right there between the Slytherin and Hufflepuff tables.

That earned them quite a few catcalls; especially from the Gryffindors, who were always vocal.

When Daphne pulled her head back to look into his eyes he could see she had been crying a little. Her eyes were just a touch bloodshot and red rimmed.

"Is there something wrong?" he asked with concern.

"No," she giggled, giving him another quick kiss. "Everything's _perfect_."

While they'd been standing there, content in each other's company, Tracey had walked in and joined the group at the table.

"Okay, you two," she said firmly. "Enough lovey-dovey. It's time for breakfast then classes."

Harry assisted Daphne into the seat alongside him and they broke their fasts together. And together, they watched other public displays of love around the Great Hall happy that this day the rules against students showing public displays of affection for one another were relaxed.

Daphne was also quite happy to show the rest of their group, plus just about anyone else who asked, the twined roses. And how she woke that morning and reached for the tie she used to tie her hair back before taking a shower; and her hand coming away with the twined roses instead.

Tracey also told the group how Pansy Parkinson was woken when Daphne screamed at finding the roses, and then proceeded to stare daggers until she left with Millicent Bulstrode in tow.

"I do believe Pansy was really, _really_ jealous," said Tracey. "But Millicent was a surprise."

"What do you mean?" asked Hannah.

"While we were in the bathroom trying to take care of Daphne's eyes, Millicent was in there putting on her make up," she replied. "She then told Daphne and me exactly what the types and style of roses, plus why they're twined together, mean."

"And, what do they mean?" asked Hermione.

Tracey just smiled and said, "I'll tell you later. I don't want to set the waterworks off again." And smirked while pointing at Daphne.

Daphne sniffled a little but was clearly very happy.

When mail was delivered all the girls, except Daphne, received a similar coloured envelope and a small white rose in miniature.

When they opened them they each held in their hands a personalised card. After they each finished reading theirs, the four girls each grabbed Neville and gave him a bit of a snogging. Something which was again greeted by hoots and catcalls, especially from the Gryffindor table.

When he sat down, Neville was both blushing like mad and had the widest grin on his face Harry thought he'd ever seen.

"_Damn_, Nev!" said Harry a little awed. "_Four_ at once? You hound _daaawwwg_!"

Instead of retaliating, Neville just sat there with a happy grin on his face feeling quite smug about himself. It was Daphne who smacked him on the arm and told him to behave before she turned to Neville and said, "That was very nice, Neville."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At odd times throughout the day, Harry was approached by quite a few blokes to congratulate him on his gift. And to give him a little light ribbing.

"Bloody Hell, Potter," said one older male Hufflepuff. "Nice way to make the rest of us look like uncultured apes!"

A few of the more clueless, usually the youngest, wondered what all the fuss was about. After all, it was only a couple of flowers.

When Neville was escorting Hermione between classes, they were about to pass a group of Third Year Gryffindors when a Weasley twin said, "Look out, gents! It's that _stud_, Longbottom!"

"Hold on to your girlfriends!" called the other one.

Neville just happily grinned as he walked past while Hermione, proudly wearing her own miniaturised white rose pinned to her robes, huffed and said, "Honestly! Such _boys_!" And threw her nose into the air as they walked on.

They were followed by peals of laughter.

While they were sitting in Herbology that afternoon, Daphne laid her twined roses on the bench while they were working. As Madam Sprout came by she softly asked Daphne, "May I?" and indicated the roses.

When Daphne nodded in response, the Herbology Professor gently picked it up and moved the pair through her fingers. She said, "It's really quite beautiful. You should think about asking Professor McGonagall if she would miniaturise and permanently transfigure it into a brooch for you before it withers and browns."

"That's a wonderful idea!" said Daphne, excited. "Thank you!"

Madam Sprout nodded and handed the pair back to Daphne before patting her on the shoulder. "I dare say you have a day or two before it becomes an issue," she said before walking away.

"Longer, if you like," said Harry softly. "I put a bit of a stasis charm on them."

Thinking a bit, she replied, "No. I'll speak with the Professor tomorrow and ask if she can do it right away. I'd hate to see them get damaged in the mean time."

After class Harry headed directly back to his dorm as Daphne and Tracey descended into the dungeons.

As soon as the ladies passed out of sight he dropped back down to the bottom of the stairs to watch them go down.

He only heard a snatch of conversation between them, and that was Daphne saying, "Well, I hope he wears the iridescent green and white shirt combination the evening I first met him. That would be romantic."

With a nod of his head Harry dashed up the stairs, 'Iridescent green and white shirt, it is,' he thought. 'Lucky I packed it.'

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At five-twenty-eight, Harry was standing in front of the blank section of wall in the dungeons that hid the entrance to the passage that led directly to the seventh floor.

He was dressed in his iridescent robes with the white under robe shirt, as he knew Daphne wanted. He had on his matching dragon hide boots, wand holster ready on his wand wrist, and had done his best with the hair tidying cantrip out of the cantrip book he'd owl ordered earlier in the school year.

Before he left Ravenclaw tower he caught quite a few wolf whistles and catcalls as he made his way out into the castle proper. However, he knew he looked every inch the proper wizard in his formal attire, and was quite proud of it.

At five-thirty-five, Daphne rounded the corner. Hearing her coming, Harry had already turned to the sound of a pair of ladies heels coming towards him. What he saw when she turned the corner took his breath away. He thanked his lucky stars puberty had only begun to show a hint of beginning its torment upon his body. Else, he'd probably be a gibbering wreck.

Daphne was wearing an iridescent _blue_ gown with light spaghetti-style straps and a shawl of darker blue similar material. But, it was the jewellery she wore which set it all off. She was wearing the necklace and earrings he'd gifted her at Christmas.

Her hair was also done up in what he thought of as a bun. It made her neck look longer and showed off her earrings to good effect. And she wore only the lightest of make-up. Which Harry was glad about, because he didn't think make-up could improve on her natural beauty.

Once she reached him he gave her a light kiss on the cheek before he said, "You look absolutely beautiful."

She blushed and looked down a little before she said, "I like hearing you say that."

"Then I shall say it again," he said. "You look absolutely beautiful."

She smiled at him and gave him a light punch to the arm.

Making sure no one was around, he asked, "Shall we?"

On her nod he reached up and turned the wall sconce. As soon as the opening was wide enough, he led her into the passage.

When they exited on the seventh floor Harry quickly led her to the other side of the grand staircase and into the corridor with the Come and Go room. The door was already there, as he hoped it would be, and held the door open while ushering her inside.

As Daphne entered she heard soft French music playing in the background. Before her was a single two person dining table as if right out of an expensive restaurant. It was draped in white linen and set with silver.

But, the biggest shock was that it appeared the table was sitting on a large balcony looking out towards the Eiffel Tower down Pont de Iéna on a beautiful clear late Spring night. Paris was dubbed the City of Lights many years earlier and, seeing it within the Come and Go room, it was clear why.

Daphne stood only a few feet inside the door, where she had stopped, clearly in awe at what she saw before her.

Harry was happy she was clear of the doors when he entered, closed them and placed a Door Sealing Charm on them. He did not want to risk anyone coming upon them, this evening.

Once he was satisfied, he stepped up beside his betrothed, took her hand and placed it in the crook of his elbow. It wasn't until he softly asked, "Shall we?" before she paid attention to him again.

With a slight nod in his direction, Harry led the girl to one of the chairs facing each other, perpendicular to the view. He pulled it out for her, waited for her to sit, and helped her scoot it in. Then walked around to his own chair and took seat.

"What do you think?" he asked, gesturing around them.

"This is _amazing_!" she almost whispered. Indicating the area beyond the balcony, she said, "It feels so _real_! I can even feel a slight breeze."

"I know, right?" asked Harry. "I still find myself in awe of what this room can do."

Petey popped just then and said, "Lord Potter, Lady Daphne" bowing to each in turn.

With a snap of his fingers a wine bucket with a bottle of wine inside appeared right next to Harry's right hand just off the table. "The wine you ordered, Master," he said, just before popping away again.

Daphne looked at Harry in surprise. "Harry, we're not allowed to drink _wine_! We're too young!"

"Relax, Daphne," he calmly replied. Reaching over and pulling the bottle from the bucket he said, "This is from the Potter wine cellar. It's non-alcoholic and has been used by Potters for many years to teach Potter children about wine.

"I've selected a nice Semillon, which will go well with the light salad we'll have as entree, and with the fish for the main course."

Picking up the wine cork puller that he hadn't noticed sitting next to his flatware he uncorked the bottle and poured them each a small glass of the wine.

Daphne tentatively smelled the wine and took a small sip before looking at Harry in surprise. "This is actually quite nice. A little sweet, even."

Nodding after taking his own first sip, he said, "I thought it best to start with something like this. I've never had wine before and wanted to have something a little sweet for my first time."

The two talked about their budding relationship, their friends and quite a few subjects as they sipped and waited.

Petey suddenly popped back in again and said, "Your first course, Master and Miss."

Before each a plate of a light salad appeared; lightly coated in a sweet vinaigrette. The two happily tucked in and enjoyed it quite a lot.

"That was good," said Daphne as she finished up.

They talked for a little bit before Petey returned and said, "A little cheese to cleanse the palate, Master and Miss."

Their salad plates disappeared to be replaced with a platter of a few slices of cheese.

Tasting each different piece, Harry said, "I think I tasted a little aged cheddar, and a slice of camembert in there. I don't know what the others were."

"One was brie and the other, I think, is commonly referred to as crackerbox," she said.

Petey reappeared and disappeared the platters. He said, "Main course, Master and Miss. Sole in butter and a lemon sauce with steamed vegetables lightly glazed in honey" before disappearing again.

"Wow!" said Harry. "That's even better than I asked for."

He watched as Daphne tried a small forkful of fish and saw her look of happy surprise before he tried his own. Matching Daphne's look he found the fish to be light and flaky, with the sauce giving it only a touch of 'zing'. It was delicious.

The vegetables were not overly cooked, retaining a slight crispness; but, they were enhanced with the honey glazing.

Only partway through her plate, Daphne looked at Harry and said, "I've eaten in a few upper class restaurants, both muggle and magical, and this would have to be the best prepared meal I've ever eaten.

"I think I'm going to have to ask you to bring the Potter elves to Greengrass Estate so they may show our elves how to cook this wonderfully."

"Well, we're certainly not going to starve for good food at Potter Manor," said Harry.

The main course happily finished, the two were talking about Neville's bold move in sending flowers to the other girls among their friends when Petey returned.

"Dessert, Master and Miss. An egg custard with a caramelised topping of raw sugar served in individual pots."

Their main course plates disappeared to be replaced with almost a bread and butter plate with a round dish with vertical sides placed in the centre. Within, was the egg custard.

"This, too, looks delicious," said Harry.

Picking up his spoon he carefully scooped out a small amount and tasted it. Like the rest of the meal, it was beyond delicious.

When he'd finished, Harry sat back and said, "I think I've just found a dessert I like more than treacle tart."

Nodding as she was finishing off the last of her own dessert, Daphne said, "Me, too; I think."

While they were waiting for what was next, Harry said, "I didn't realise Neville had it in him. To buy four ladies a valentine's card and gift, knowing they'd each receive it while in the company of the others, and not be worried he'd be hexed into oblivion, _and_ be kissed by each in turn - It's clear to me now why he's in Gryffindor.

"T'was a _bold_ move," he said.

"Well, I think it was sweet," said Daphne. "And so did Tracey and Hermione when I spoke with them in class, this morning. I've no doubt Susan and Hannah feel the same."

"I've heard he was strutting around quite proud of himself between classes," said Harry. "And that some of the older guys bowed to him in recognition of his act."

After talking a little while longer, Petey returned with a small platter of cheese and light crackers to enjoy and clean the palate again.

They were even enjoying themselves in each others company so much that Petey had to return for a final time to inform them curfew was only fifteen minutes away.

Thanking the little elf who had done so much for them that night, they headed out after one last long look at the panorama of the French skyline.

Harry quickly removed the Door Sealing Charm and then escorted Daphne all the way to the Slytherin common rooms. Or, more properly, where Daphne told him it was. Before he left he reached into his robes and offered her his mirror.

He said, "This is a communications mirror. They belong to Sirius. I asked Sirius to loan its twin to your mother for tonight so, if you'd like, you can give her a call back in your dorm to let her know how the night went. To activate it, just whisper 'Padfoot' close to it's surface and it'll let your mum know you're ready to connect."

Daphne looked at it in a little awe before giving Harry a kiss. She said, "_Thank_ you."

"You're, as always, very welcome," he replied.

After a last good night but sweet kiss, he bid her sweet dreams and headed back to the Ravenclaw tower, making it with a few minutes to spare.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	32. Bucking Authority

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Two – Bucking Authority**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Tracey was sitting on her bed in her pyjamas trying to read a novel but failing. She thought she must have read the page she was on at least half a dozen times and still couldn't remember what it said. No, her focus was on the door to their dorm from the outside hallway.

At a few minutes before curfew the door opened and Tracey was both happy and relieved to see her blonde friend walk in. She could see the girl had a grin from ear to ear, so obviously the 'date' had gone well.

"Let me quickly get changed and I've got something to show you!" said Daphne before Tracey could even ask her a single question.

Tracey was just about bouncing in excitement waiting for her friend to ready herself for bed.

After she'd quickly removed her jewellery, unravelled her hair from it's bun, cleaned away the little makeup she wore and changed into pyjamas; which Tracey swore she took longer to do than normal; Daphne closed the curtains around her bed and gestured for her friend to join her.

Both girls then cast the Silencing and Do-Not-Disturb Charms on the canopy and curtains about them Harry had taught them the previous year, when they'd complained about Millicent's snoring keeping them awake.

Sitting on the bed the girls sat opposite, Indian-style. And Daphne showed her friend the mirror Harry had loaned to her.

Opening it, Daphne gently whispered, "Padfoot." onto the mirrored surface and waited.

A few moments later the image changed to one of her mother, Isabel.

"Hi Mum!" squealed the girl, happy.

"Hello sweetheart!" replied Isabel. "I heard Harry planned on taking you on a bit of a date, tonight."

Tracey quickly came around and sat alongside her friend instead of opposite and both stared into the mirror.

"He did! And it was _amazing_!" gushed Daphne. "The _best_ day of my life! Let me tell you what happened..."

Daphne showed her the twined roses she found that morning when she first awoke, what Neville did at breakfast - with Tracey showing off her miniature white rose - all the way through to them dressing up for dinner and how special Harry made the dinner they privately enjoyed.

Though both girls should have been asleep much earlier than when they finally went to bed properly, the girls spent almost two hours reliving how special the day was; and just engaging in 'girl talk'.

Before she signed off, due to how late it was getting, Daphne promised to send her mother some memories of the highlights of the day.

As Isabel sighed after the connection was broken, and folded the mirror back away; from where he had been listening in from out of sight, Cygnus said, "It sounds like Harry made it truly special for her."

Quickly grabbing a tissue to dab her watery eyes, Isabel replied, "Yes, he did. He really wants to allow her the experience of courting while they're at school. He's such a _good_ and thoughtful boy."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After the excitement of Valentine's Day the school returned to normal activities. It was still bitterly cold outside but the Seven made a lot of use of the Come and Go Room.

Daphne, as she had said she would, had approached Professor McGonagall and the stern but romantic at heart professor was quite happy to permanently transfigure the twined roses. She transfigured them into a small metallic brooch with a glazed ceramic coating about two inches high. Daphne had taken to wearing it all the time on her robes

Harry was using his practicing against the target dummies as both a way to get fit, improve on his use of combat magic and cast more accurately.

When he wasn't actually using the target dummies for himself, he was happily teaching the others how to do the same.

Though he didn't understand why, and left the explanation as 'because it's magic', everyone was also quite a bit faster in their movements and motion. Daphne had said his wand hand and wand almost became a blur it was moving so fast.

By the end of March they were all able to keep their magic effusing from themselves while casting, dodging and being otherwise distracted. As a result of their private training they were all becoming quite fit.

Neville was rapidly losing his lingering baby fat and both boys were becoming quite toned. The girls loved how it was making their own bodies look and were looking forward to when they would finally start to develop, as Hermione called it, 'shape'. However, Susan had already begun since before Christmas.

On hearing some of this talk, Neville leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Boobies." That had both boys blushing and sniggering.

The girls were not happy when they worked out what had the boys snickering to themselves.

Over the next half hour, both boys found themselves happy they'd spent a lot of time dodging and avoiding curses the target dummies had been throwing at them; as that training helped them to avoid a lot of the Stinging Hexes and similar the girls threw at them in retaliation, while shrieking imprecations about them being 'such _boys_' as they ran about the room ducking, weaving and dodging.

Harry's logical argument that, as they _were_ boys, being 'such _boys_' wasn't actually a bad thing, apparently fell on deaf ears.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As spring bloomed outside, Daphne had gone looking for Harry one weekend for lunch and found him in earnest conversation with the Weasley twins and a couple of the Gryffindor chasers.

As she joined them, Alicia Spinnet was singing the praises of the Cleansweep 7 over the Nimbus 2000 as a Quidditch player's broom.

"It's better at manoeuvring, it's sturdier, it's better at taking hits, it's just better," she said.

"Now, that might be a good thing for a beater or a chaser," replied Harry. "But speed is _essential_ for a seeker. The Nimbus 2000 is a much faster broom and still excellent at manoeuvring when you need it to. And I think the Comet 260 should be the broom of choice for a keeper."

"Our Cleansweep 5s may not be as fast as the newest model," said one twin, cutting in.

"However, they're more than adequate for the job as beaters' brooms," said the other.

"Not if you wanted to press the seeker," disagreed Harry. "A seeker on a Nimbus 2000 will render that strategy useless. He or she will just out fly you if you try."

"Yes, but they'd do that against any other broom bar the Cleansweep 7," said Alicia. "Hence, why it's the better broom. It allows the press yet retains the sturdiness needed for a beater."

"Why a 260 for the keeper?" asked Daphne.

"Tail smacking," said Angelina Johnson. "It may be a racing broom but it's supposedly great at being able to be used for tail smacking a quaffle away from the hoops due to its brush shape."

The conversation was lively enough it caught the attention of other Quidditch players around the room. An older Ravenclaw, who Harry recognised as the Ravenclaw Quidditch team captain, was trying to surreptitiously listen in.

"I'd love to put my Nimbus 2000 against your Cleansweep 7 in a battle for the snitch!" declared Harry. "I'd have you tasting my brush twigs in _seconds_ if you tried to apply the press on me. Especially if, like Fred and George, you're only on 5s."

"Oh, Harry, my man," declared one twin.

"We'd only need mere moments to have you knocked off your chase," said the other.

"That's if you two ever decided to _apply_ the press," said Alicia. "You're far too busy dealing with the opposing chasers."

Harry felt a light tapping on his shoulder as the others were arguing. Turning to look over his shoulder, he saw the Ravenclaw Quidditch captain beckoning him away.

After excusing themselves, both Harry and Daphne walked away from the table to the older Ravenclaw.

"Is it true you own a Nimbus 2000?" he asked.

Harry nodded and said, "Yes. It was a gift from my family at Christmas."

"And you play seeker?" he asked.

"I'd _prefer_ seeker, but I'd probably play anywhere except keeper if given the opportunity," said Harry.

"He can really _fly_, Mister..." said Daphne, leaving it hanging.

"Martin," said the older boy, offhandedly. "Simon Martin."

"Well, he can really fly, Mister Martin," said Daphne.

Looking amusedly at his betrothed, Harry asked, "You're not worried I'll beat your Slytherins?"

"No," she said with a frown. "Flint will only accept boys onto the Slytherin team, and only older years at that. He doesn't _deserve_ my support."

"That's because they play rough and cheat," said the older boy.

No one disagreed with his view.

Looking thoughtful towards Harry, he said, "Our seeker, this year, is Cho Chang; a second year. It's only her first year but she's not displaying the daring needed for a go-get-'em seeker; which is what we need. Bring your broom next year and I'll give you a try-out for the position. If you get it there's a chaser position opening up and I'll offer that to her."

"Thank you," replied Harry, a little stunned at the offer. "I'll make sure to bring it with me."

The older boy gave a firm short nod and walked away.

"Oh, Harry!" gushed Daphne, happy for him. "That's wonderful!"

"I guess I'm going to have to do some practicing chasing down a snitch over summer," he grinned. "But, at least I'm going to be able to keep my promise to Cygnus and Sirius and try out for the team."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

It seemed not much longer before exams were closing in. Harry revelled in the feeling of opposing emotions of fear of the exams and joy the summer holidays were coming, among the students.

Though Harry didn't need it, the rest of the group were working hard on revising the work they'd done over the year. He was happy to assist by writing up practice test sheets for them all, or just asking pop quiz style questions.

Harry walked in to each exam sitting, happy he'd do quite well. As the exams were only held in each normal class, he only had a few classes where he could watch the others at different times. And he was happy to take each slowly enough that he was never the first out of the room. Often, he'd wait until he was in the last third.

It was only in Charms and Transfiguration did he work at his normal pace and be one of the first out of the room.

Each afternoon he would escort Daphne down to the now warmer lakeside so she could unwind from the stress of the exams. But, it was on the Wednesday of the exam period the others insisted on dragging Hermione down to the lake's edge, to try and get the girl to unwind.

And the only way they could even accomplish that much was for Harry to quote a study where it said a person did better in exam situations when they entered them more relaxed than they would otherwise be. The times they spent on the lake's edge did them all some good.

Once the last exam was done Hermione asked, "When do we get our results?"

"Next week, on Wednesday," replied Harry.

When the others looked at him a little funny, he said, "I asked Professor McGonagall. She was happy to tell me."

"But, that's more than a week before we head home on the Express!" said Hermione. "What ever will we do?"

"I dare say the coming fortnight will be filled with the Professors handing out summer assignments," said Harry.

"Really?" asked Hermione, almost eagerly.

Lightly berating the girl in response, Harry replied, "Hermione. Haven't I taught you yet that you don't need assignments to study?"

Looking a little sad, she replied, "Yes; but assignments get marked and we get to see how well we're doing according to the Professors' own schedules."

That elicited a round of amused chuckles from the others.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the next Wednesday, two days after the End-of-Year Feast where it was found Slytherin won the House Cup, they received their exam results hand-delivered to their breakfast table. Hermione was the most distressed about what the results could have been and Neville had to take it from her hand and open it lest the poor girl pass out with anxiety.

After he threatened to read them out loud if she didn't read it for herself, she almost frantically, ripped the results out of Neville's hand and avidly read the parchment through. As she finished the others could all see she was ever so pleased with her results.

The only downside, she felt, was that she didn't get higher than second in any class.

As the others all read their own it was Harry who picked up top marks in most subjects: Charms, Transfiguration, DADA and Astronomy. He was second in Herbology and third in Potions.

Neville beat him out for top spot in Herbology and Daphne and Hermione, in that order, beat him out for the top spot in Potions.

Hermione pulled out a sheet of parchment, quill and ink and charted everyone's results. The final result was they took all seven top marks in Charms, Transfiguration, DADA, History of Magic and Astronomy. Fifth and seventh in Potions went to others.

"Bloody Hell!" said Neville. "Gran's going to be ever so pleased!"

It didn't take long for it to be known that The Seven scooped the top spots across the board. There were quite a few, especially in Ravenclaw, who weren't happy with that.

Harry's response, when his year mates in the House of the Eagle confronted him about it, was, "It is not my responsibility to ensure you people do your work to the best standard you can. You're supposed to be in the House of intelligence and wit; demonstrate it!"

The older Ravenclaws backed him and scowled down anyone who thought they had a right to complain to him.

One older Ravenclaw said to Morag MacDougal, who wanted to berate Harry for not helping them instead of his friends, "You seem to think this is Hufflepuff House; where friends stick together and work hard together. It's not! Push it, and I'll inform Professor Flitwick you need to be _re_sorted!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

That Sunday afternoon, Harry and Daphne held a party for the members of the etiquette club, whose membership swelled to forty members before they closed off membership for the year.

The elves happily supplied some snacks and Professor Flitwick supplied a keg of butterbeer. Though some Ravenclaws were just a little disappointed there wouldn't be an exam; Harry had to point out it was a club, not a class, they attended.

Standing at the front after everyone became settled, Daphne said, "Harry and I first - conceived of this idea when we learned a good friend of ours was completely unaware of the traditions and customs of our world. And that Hogwarts did not provide any lessons for those unaware to learn.

"We felt we would be lucky if we had two dozen people interested in our little club. We were very happy that, within a few weeks of starting, the numbers swelled to forty. The numbers would have swelled even further, if we did not make the difficult decision to close off membership and advise those who didn't get in on time to apply next year.

"We two feel you have all gained so much over this year we are comfortable you can now go into wizarding society and purport yourselves with dignity. You will not disappoint us. Very well done to you all."

It was a Second Year Gryffindor who then stepped forward and, offering a proper courtly bow to Daphne, then Harry, said as he did so, "Lady Daphne - Lord Potter - on behalf of the members, I pass to you our sincere thanks for you setting aside some of your personal time to assist us in this matter. I am at your service."

With a small but pleased smile Daphne dropped a little into a formal curtsey while Harry, as Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House, gave a small nod in return. As it was his place to do so, Harry said, "The honour was ours, Mister Chambers; we accept your thanks in the spirit it was given. And your service is unnecessary - And that was _very_ well done."

Chambers gave an acknowledging bow in response while wearing a pleased smile.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The last two 'lazy' weeks had passed slowly enough that Harry was about ready to go and get the Hogwarts Express, drive and have it at Hogsmeade Station himself. He felt the last week at the castle was a complete waste of time.

When Hermione pointed out they wouldn't have received their summer assignments if they didn't remain for the extra week, Harry argued back the assignments could have been handed out the week earlier.

It was Tracey who said the last week was occupied with the Fifth Years doing their OWLS. And that was why the Great Hall wasn't available when classes were normally on. And the train couldn't really do the run back to Kings Cross until the Fifth Years were finished.

Finally, on the morning of 20th June, it was time to head home for summer. The Seven gathered in the Entrance Hall, said goodbye to the few Professors who came to see them all off, and walked out of the castle for the carriages.

The last week, as Harry suspected, they had received their summer assignments from each of the Professors. It made Hermione happy, at least.

It took them a little effort to convince her they didn't need to complete them before they headed for home.

Finally boarding the Express, the Seven found themselves an unoccupied compartment. Harry had his note for the outside of the door ready and quickly stuck it to the door with a Sticking Charm. This time, the note said, 'Try Knocking' on one line with, 'The Seven' directly underneath.

As soon as the trunks were all stored overhead, Harry closed and locked the door before using the Door Sealing Charm on it. He had thought about using a Notice-Me-Not Charm, one of the latest spells he had taught himself, but thought it was for the best if he didn't, just in case someone really did need to come and see them.

Just after the train departed from the platform, they had their first 'victim'. They were still settling down and pulling out books and magazines to read - for Harry, it was the Daily Prophet as he deliberately saved reading it until now - when there was an attempt to open the door with the latch rattling.

They all waited for a few moments to see if the 'non-reader' would knock but, when it was apparent they wouldn't, they ignored it.

It happened again about half an hour later.

"That'll be one of the Prefects coming to check on us," said Hermione. "We should let them in."

"What on earth for?" asked Harry.

"The rules state that the Prefects are responsible for checking on the students during the times we're aboard the Express," replied Hermione almost as if she was explaining to a small child. "It's their duty."

"That it is, Hermione," said Harry. "However, it states nowhere in the rules that we have to open the doors for them."

"But they can't do their duty if they can't get in!" she said exasperatedly.

"And that's _their_ problem," said Harry almost snapping back, before he relented a little and said, "It's a simple Door Sealing Charm, Hermione. There's no password component or anything tricky about it. All they need to do is strip the charm off the door, then use the Door Unlocking Charm to enter. As Prefects I would have thought they would know the Spells.

"Of course, if they simply knocked, I'd be happy to open it for them. It would only take me but a few moments. But no; whoever was on the other side of that door, as I'm sure they've moved off by now, was being rude; even if they _are_ wearing a Prefect's badge. And there is no excuse for rudeness; Prefect badge or no Prefect badge."

Hermione huffed and clearly appeared to be angry about it.

It was Tracey who said, "Hermione, you _really_ need to take a breath and _think_ before you speak. Just because someone has authority does not make them right. And there are a significant number of Prefects who, when they get their badges, let it go to their heads and think it means the rules no longer apply to them.

"Common courtesy dictates you knock first before even _thinking_ about entering a space not your own. A Prefect badge does not absolve you of breaching those basic rules of human decency. What if we were stripped down and getting changed in here; and the person who suddenly wrenched open that door was an older bloke? Would that make it alright?"

Hermione frowned while she thought about that. "No, it wouldn't. But we weren't getting changed," she replied.

With a shrug, Tracey said, "But how would whoever was outside that door know that?"

Hermione frowned for a while more before she sighed and replied, "You're right. I didn't think it through enough. I'm sorry."

"Apology accepted," said Harry before Tracey said, "All we can ask you to do is think it through before jumping to a conclusion. What might be wrong on first look, might actually be right if you consider it for a while. And vice versa."

Harry gave the girl a few minutes to think about that before asking, "Do you know that, by rights, Hagrid should have been executed last September?"

Hermione looked at him in shock. "What?" she blurted. "But - _why_?"

"He committed a crime that has as it's consequence the sentence of death," said Harry. "And the crime he committed was on the orders of Albus Dumbledore."

"Dumbledore _ordered_ him to?!" she squeaked.

He nodded and replied, "On the night my parents were murdered, Dumbledore sent Hagrid to my parent's cottage in Godric's Hollow, with orders to collect me and return with me to Hogwarts.

"Hagrid, _doing as he was ordered by his boss_, went to the cottage and found me in my crib upstairs. He carried me downstairs and out the door. As he was walking away up the path, my godfather, Sirius, stopped him and told Hagrid to hand me over. Hagrid refused and cited the order, by Dumbledore, to return with me to Hogwarts. With me so far?"

She nodded.

"Alright, Sirius didn't push the issue. Instead, he foolishly went off after Pettigrew. For that, Hagrid was _very_ lucky. At that time I was already the Heir Apparent to a Noble and Most Ancient House. Hagrid would have known that. He stepped over the lifeless bodies of my parents, after all. He comes across as a gentle soul but he's not an idiot.

"Because he didn't hand me over to one of my rightful named guardians, when requested by that guardian to do so, he committed the criminal act of kidnapping. Because I was the Heir Apparent to a Noble and Most Ancient House, the consequence of that action meant he should have been given the Dementor's Kiss.

"It is only that I, and my guardians, _knew_ that it was because of Hagrid's blind and _foolish_ loyalty to Dumbledore that he did not hand me over to Sirius that night; that we didn't push to have him tried. We _knew_ he would have been Kissed if we did."

Hermione looked like she was about to burst into tears from shock. Tracey handed her a handkerchief.

Neville sighed and said, "He's right, Hermione. Do not doubt that. Hagrid lives today only because of the grace of Harry, Sirius, my Gran, Aunt Amelia and the Greengrasses. Any _one_ of them could have demanded a trial and there would have been one."

"But, he was only doing as he was told," sniffled Hermione.

"Ah! The Nuremberg defence," said Harry. "The Nazis tried that at the Nuremberg trials. It held no water then; it holds no water now. They were still executed by hanging, in many cases.

"Lawful and just orders from authority should be obeyed, I agree," said Harry softly. "If we didn't we would have anarchy. However, it is also our duty and responsibility _not_ to obey those orders that are either unlawful or unjust. Doing so can get you anywhere up to, and including, executed."

"But I still think people in authority should be obeyed," said Hermione a little adamantly. "Sometimes, they have information we do not. And it's not for us to question them about it."

'Alright, this is going to be a little harder than I thought,' thought Harry.

"That's alright if you believe that, Hermione," said Harry. The others all looked at him a little weirdly.

"You are my Protectee, are you not?" he asked her.

"Yes," she said.

"I am your Protector, am I not?" he asked.

"Yes," she frowned.

"I'm sure you read up on what that means, correct?"

"Yes."

"So, I have authority over you, correct?"

"Yes."

Nodding with a serious look on his face, he said, "Good. Stand up, right where you are, and strip yourself naked."

He received a few incredulous looks from the others. And, Daphne suddenly clenched his arm tight. But, no one said anything.

"Wh - what?" asked Hermione in a soft tremulous voice.

"I thought I made myself quite clear with what I said," he calmly replied. "I want to stare at your naked body. Stand up and strip naked."

Again, his friends said nothing. He realised they were now beginning to understand what he was doing.

"I - I..." she stuttered. "But..."

She seemed to gather herself a little and think it through before she pulled an angry expression and glared at him. "_No!_" she half-screamed.

"Why ever not?" he calmly asked.

"Because - because you have _no right_ to demand that of me!" she glared at him.

"I don't?" he also calmly asked. "You already admit I have authority over you."

"_No!_ That falls _outside_ the bounds of your authority over..." she started to say before suddenly and abruptly coming to a halt.

She looked at him with fury and outrage but now understanding.

"You!... You!..." she stuttered.

"Tricked you into disobeying authority; yes," he said. "Congratulations on taking that step."

Daphne unlatched herself from his, now slightly numb, arm. And went over to scootch in next to Hermione.

She then gave the girl a hug just as she burst into tears.

After a few sobs Hermione said, "You can be a bastard sometimes, you know that?"

"Sweet Merlin! Hermione Granger just swore. The world must be coming to an end and the denizens of Hell are getting ready for a snowball fight," grinned Harry. "Oh, and I happen to have it on _good_ authority my parents were happily married when I was conceived _and_ born."

That earned him a few snickers from the others, including Hermione.

"I'm sorry, Hermione," he honestly said, a few moments later. "I've just shattered one of your personal beliefs about the world around you. And, for that, I'm truly sorry to have been the one who caused it."

In a soft voice, Hermione then asked with her head down, "So. You don't want to see me naked, then?"

Stupidly, he replied, "Oh, I didn't say _that_."

Suddenly, wands appeared. And Harry learned the valuable lesson that you cannot dodge Stinging Hexes while sitting in a crowded train compartment. By the time he managed to get a shield up, he'd already been hit by five.

But, at least Hermione was also laughing, even if it was a little watery.

Neville, from where he was laughing further along the bench, said, "You squeal like a _girl_, Harry!" Thereby proving Harry wasn't the _only_ one who could say something stupid.

He was luckier, though. He was only hit by _three_ Stinging Hexes before getting a shield up. And that was because two of the girls were too shocked Neville said it to get a cast in early enough.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When Harry disembarked from the train he was limping just a little, as was Neville.

"What happened to you two?" asked Cygnus.

Before he had a chance to answer, Harry winced when he was grapple-hugged on a tender spot by a brunette haired missile who made a "Squee!" sound.

Before either boy could respond, Daphne said, "Because _boys_ can say really stupid things, sometimes, that earn them a hexing."

Both boys blushed but couldn't help grinning.

"You got hexed?" asked Tori, backing away a little, putting her hands on her hips, and staring up at him with a frown. "Who hexed you?"

"It's alright, Tori," said Harry soothingly. "I think we might have deserved it."

"Think?" asked Hermione.

"Might?" asked Daphne.

The boys were just about to try and explain when a voice with a decided Weasley twin sound to it, called out, "Beware for your daughters, mothers!"

And then the other voice, "Neville _Lothario_ Longbottom is on the platform!"

Both roared with laughter while their mother, Molly Weasley, admonished them both for their behaviour.

Harry sniggered while Neville blushed even further but stood up, proudly.

"Lothario?" asked Sirius, perking up.

"Neville sent four valentines on Valentines Day," said Daphne with a little glee. "One each to Tracey, Susan, Hannah and Hermione. When they all arrived at the same time in the Great Hall at breakfast, each of the four kissed him in front of _everyone_."

"Neville!" said Gran, a little shocked.

"_Daaawwwggg!_" said Sirius, quite pleased. "Here. You wouldn't happen to be in need of a godfather, would you? No? What about a wingman?"

"_Sirius_ Black! You will _not_ encourage him like that," huffed Gran.

"Actually, it was a very nice thing Neville did, Madam Longbottom," said Daphne. "The girls knew it was meant in friendship."

"Tracey told us about it the night it happened and Daphne sent us a memory of it," said Isabel. "Would you like to come over to Greengrass Estate to watch it?"

Frowning, Gran said with a bit of an irritated timbre, "Yes. I think I must."

Neville tried to act like he'd been told off, but couldn't help grinning from ear to ear.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	33. Summertime

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Three - Summertime**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After the Davises and the Boneses left with Hannah in tow, the others all portkeyed back to Greengrass Estate; including Hermione. Now that the Grangers were protectees of the Greengrasses they had permission to connect their fireplace to the floo network. Cygnus organised it for them.

The Grangers sent an owl a few weeks earlier letting Hermione know to go back to Greengrass Estate with Cygnus and Isabel, and they'd expect her through the floo network before dinner.

Again, Harry landed in a heap on the floor.

Hermione said, "Honestly, Harry; it's not that hard to master."

Harry just grumbled in response before he said, "Portkeys hate me, the floo network hates me, and I hate side-along apparition. I can't win unless I travel on a broom. Brooms love me."

Well, kids," said Cygnus, "Trunks up in your rooms. Hermione, Neville, you can leave yours next to the fireplace in the parlour."

The four adults went into the study to watch memories.

Daphne looked at Harry with a coy smile and said, "_Haaarrryy..._"

Harry rolled his eyes and said, "Yes, dear." And, putting her trunk on top of his, floated them both up the stairs.

When the adults came out about half an hour later the five kids were all in the kitchen. Astoria was asking question after question about Hogwarts while the four students were eating sandwiches the house elves prepared for them.

Gran walked up to Neville, who didn't know what to expect, and planted a kiss on the top of his head. "They're right," she said. "It was a very nice thing to do."

He blushed and muttered, "Thanks, Gran."

She then looked up at Harry and walked around to him. "And you," she said before also kissing him on the head, "Also did a very nice thing for _Daphne_."

"However," she said stepping back a little and glaring at all four students, "I do not agree with such overt public displays of affection, no matter how innocent, in the Great Hall of Hogwarts in the middle of breakfast."

"Yes, Gran," said the two boys while the two girls said, "Yes, Madam Longbottom."

Having gotten her message across it was clear Gran was happy to leave it at that.

"If you'd like to stay here with your friends for a little while, Neville," said Gran. "You can head home in a bit. Just be home in time for dinner, alright."

Looking up at his grandmother in surprise, Neville said, "Thank you Gran; I will."

She gave him a nod and said, "Be good." A look at Harry and she said, "You too, Harry."

Harry just nodded in response.

When Gran left via the floo Neville just had to check she'd gone. He came back a little surprised and said, "I didn't expect that."

Knowing Neville's love of greenery, after they'd finished their sandwiches, Daphne said, "You've not had a chance to see our gardens, have you, Nev?"

Neville perked right up and shook his head with an expression of almost craving on his face.

Getting up from her chair, Daphne said, "Well, come on, then."

Neville was out of his chair like a rocket and following along, almost dancing with happiness.

Looking at the time, Hermione said, "I'd best be making a move home. Mum and Dad will be home from work, soon."

Harry frowned in confusion and said, "But, it's Saturday."

Nodding, she replied, "They sometimes work on a Saturday to cater to those people who can't get time off work to go to the dentist. It's quite profitable for them. I dare say that, since the Greengrasses were willing to bring me back here and I can floo home directly from here, they've used the opportunity before the summer break and we're away on holidays."

Nodding in understanding he stood with her as she rose to walk to the parlour.

Just before she reached for her trunk, he put his hand on her arm to halt her and said in a soft voice, "I'm truly sorry I upset you on the train, Hermione."

She smiled at him and gave him a hug. "I'm alright, now, Harry. It was just - confronting - at the time. Hexing you and Neville helped."

Returning the hug he just nodded on her shoulder.

Backing away and picking up her trunk by it's handle, she reached for the floo powder. Dashing the powder in she called, "Dentistry!" and was gone a moment later.

With a sigh of remorse, Harry headed out back to see how Neville was doing with Daphne's tour of the gardens.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

For Harry, summer was proving to be, in a word, 'Brilliant!'.

However, on the evening of his birthday, where he received a small cache of very nice gifts, Harry was lying in bed ready to go to sleep when a house elf popped in standing on the foot of his bed. It appeared to be trying not to tremble in fear, and it's fingers were bandaged.

"Harry Potter must not return to Hogwarts," it said.

"What?" asked Harry.

"Harry Potter must _not_ return to Hogwarts," it said more firmly.

"What on earth are you on about?" asked Harry with a frown.

"Great danger will be at Hogwarts, this year, Harry Potter Sir," the elf said.

"Oh, great," he said, sarcastically. "There was a possessed Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor when I turned up at the Sorting. What's it going to be this year?"

"Dobby cannot say, Harry Potter," said the elf. "The Great Harry Potter must stay away."

"Who's elf are you?" he asked.

"I is a Malfoy elf, Harry Potter," it said.

"So, Malfoy has something in motion to cause danger to me; right?" asked Harry.

"Dobby cannot say, Harry Potter," replied the elf.

"Well that's just naffing great, isn't it?" he half-snarled in a mutter.

Looking at the elf, Harry firmed his voice and said, "Thank you for the warning, Dobby. I'll take it on board."

The elf popped away without another word.

Harry laid back down and was wondering what the year would bring when he finally dropped off to sleep.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, he approached Cygnus about the weird visit he received from the Malfoy house elf.

"I just _cannot_ fathom why he would come here to warn me," muttered Harry with a frown. "And the warning, too, wasn't mentioning me in particular. It was 'Great danger would be at Hogwarts, this year.' Which leads me to believe he implies _everyone_ at Hogwarts will be at risk. So, why would he come and warn me, in particular?"

"It sounds like you have a fan in a house elf," smiled Cygnus.

"_Great!_" grouched Harry. "It's bad enough I have young witches making _moon_-eyes at me whenever I go into Diagon Alley or walk the corridors of Hogwarts. _Now_ I have house elves doing it."

"Is the _Great_ Harry Potter getting annoyed with his fame?" asked Cygnus in a mickey-taking voice.

Harry just stuck his tongue out in reply.

Which, of course, made Cygnus laugh.

"But, what can we do about it?" asked Harry. "I don't like the idea of complaining to the Malfoys about it as the poor thing looked like it was being abused. I'd hate to learn they killed it for warning me."

"We do nothing, for now," replied a more serious Cygnus. "The warning is too - general - for us to do anything else. All we can do is monitor the situation and see what develops."

"So, it'll be a case of 'Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more'."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Three days later, the Daily Prophet carried a story of nine simultaneous raids on various properties of witches and wizards. Harry noticed one was on Malfoy Manor; or, more properly called, Black Manor.

Tapping on the article while he was sitting at the breakfast table, Harry asked Cygnus, "Cygnus? Have you heard of these raids carried out overnight by the aurors?"

Frowning, Cygnus picked up his own copy and read the article.

"No. I didn't know about them," he said. "But they're all homes and businesses belonging to those who claimed they were under the Imperious Curse to escape prosecution after the war."

"So, they're all Death Eaters, then?" he asked.

Nodding, Cygnus replied, "Yes. So, it seems the aurors decided a lightning raid on their properties might have turned something up to prove their guilt."

Looking a bit longer, he further said, "Arthur Weasley was heading the raids. He's the Head of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office within the DMLE. I wonder why he was involved."

"Weasley?" asked Harry. "Any relation, you know of, with the Weasleys at Hogwarts?"

"Their father," replied Cygnus. "A good man, if a little henpecked by his wife."

"Cygnus!" scolded Isabel.

"Well, it's true," Cygnus defended himself. "Molly Prewett is a shrew, who is too quick to temper and voice. But, they do honestly love each other and their kids."

"Do you think they might have found anything?" asked Harry.

"I doubt it," replied Cygnus. "Malfoy is too shrewd and canny to have anything that might incriminate him in any wrongdoing easily found in his home."

The rest of the holiday passed with Harry spending time at Greengrass Estate, Longbottom Hall, Bones Manor, Grimmauld Place, an overnight at the Grangers, and even a couple of day trips to the Weasleys.

Daphne, and sometimes Tori, came along to each, except for visiting the Weasleys.

The twins sent him an invitation via owl to spend the day with them, and he was happy to go. Harry found their home, the Burrow, to be quite an eclectic jumble of jutting rooms and windows. But, it was a fun place to be, with it's rickety stairs and ghoul in the attic.

When the twins discovered he was offered a try out for the seeker position on the Ravenclaw team, they even offered to help him out. So, he spent a day with them in their backyard Quidditch pitch learning what they were willing to teach him about the position.

After he showed them some of the moves he'd read about in Quidditch magazines and learned how to do, they were amazed by his flying ability. Percy, however, appeared quite distracted.

When he asked the twins about it, they told him Percy received twelve owls and didn't even gloat about it. But, he was wearing out his poor owl with constantly flying back and forth to no one knew where.

Their sister, the youngest of the Weasley children, was starting at Hogwarts that year. Harry found her to be very shy. Every time he came close to her, she'd blush profusely and run away.

It wasn't until he had the guys offer her a try of his broom - after the twins and Ron tried it, of course - did she seem to come out of her shell a bit. And, it was only the offer of a ride on Harry's broom that also brought the youngest male Weasley out of his self-imposed funk about the 'Famous Harry Potter'.

While she, Ginny, was flying around showing off some of the things she could do, Harry said to the twins, "There flies a future seeker. You may want to help her develop that talent. Gryffindor will need her once I'm on the Ravenclaw team."

The twins could only nod in agreement, quite amazed by their sister's obvious talent.

At Longbottom Hall, Harry and Daphne helped Neville in the Hall's old, but functional, small greenhouse. Neville was happy to tell them all about the plants they were working with and how they played a part in various potions.

Both Harry and Daphne came away from the day having learned so much they both agreed a Professorship in Herbology was clearly in Neville's future.

When they visited the Granger residence, Harry was at first a little leery of the home. While it was a much larger home than Privett Drive it still had some similarities; such as the cupboard under the stairs.

Seeing him standing in the downstairs hallway, at one point, staring at the small door, Daphne came and hugged him from behind, reminding him that part of his past life was just that, in the past.

However, the small incident did not pass the notice of Monica; who vowed to herself to find out why Harry was so sad about and simultaneously afraid of the cupboard under the stairs. Based on what she heard Daphne tell him she knew it had to be important.

Bones Manor was similar to Potter Manor. The Boneses were once as wealthy as the Potters, but no longer. Unlike James Potter sinking much of the Potter wealth into land, overseas and muggle businesses, the Bones fortune was mainly in businesses that had been destroyed in the last war.

However, Aunt Amelia had learned from that and had made sure to diversify, as much as possible, the remaining wealth of the family. And their wealth was steadily regrowing. The stewardship of House Bones was in very capable hands; and Susan would inherit a greater wealth than was available when Aunt Amelia first took control.

At the Davis's Manor, the Davises warmly greeted Daphne as if she was a prodigal daughter. However, both Davis parents, Edmund and Petra, were a touch cool towards Harry; as was Tracey's older brother, Edward. It was not made clear to Harry why, but he firmly believed you can't expect everyone to like you, let alone love you. However, he treated them with respect and soon the coldness of their initial reactions faded to a grudging respect.

It was quite the abrupt change when Harry went with Susan and Daphne to the Abbott home, called the Rectory.

The Abbotts were a very warm and welcoming family. Both worked full time jobs, even though they really didn't need to, because they both believed a good day's hard work makes a person feel useful. It wasn't hard to work out that both parents were in Hufflepuff when they attended Hogwarts.

While Daphne, Susan and Hannah disappeared for 'girl talk', Harry sought out Hannah's father, Michael; finding him working in his study.

"Hello, Harry," Michael warmly welcomed him and indicated a chair on the other side of the desk. "The girls getting too much for you?"

"Normally, I'm alright with it," replied Harry, walking in and sitting in the chair. "But, as soon as they mentioned the 'three dreaded words', I made a bolt for it."

"Three dreaded words?" the older man asked.

"Yeah," replied Harry, holding up his hand and ticking them off on his fingers. "Teen. Witch. Weekly."

Michael gave a full throated laugh and said, "Maybe you should get in with Quidditch Quarterly first."

"I may only be twelve, Sir," said Harry with a wry grin. "But, I've already learned getting between girls and their discussing the latest issue of that _evil_ publication is not conducive to one's health. All three have become _way_ too ready and too fast with Stinging Hexes for me to be comfortable upsetting them when I'm outnumbered as much as that."

That elicited another laugh from his host.

The older man and the young boy sat down and began what would become an enduring friendship, irrespective of their ages.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Normally - well, as much as the previous year could be considered normal - Harry would have preferred to have gone in to pick up their texts for the next year, early. However, Daphne and Tracey preferred to go later in the summer. In this case, that was the 19th of August.

As Isabel escorted Harry and Daphne through the Alley, Daphne pointed out the crowd gathered around the entrance to Flourish & Blotts. Walking closer, they saw a placard that said a bloke named Gilderoy Lockhart was in the store signing autographs for his just released autobiography, '_Magical Me!_'.

"It's _his_ books we're required to purchase for DADA this year," muttered Harry. "_Eight_ of the buggers."

"_Language_, Mister Potter," muttered Isabel, also looking at the queue outside the store, and clearly not concentrating on Harry and Daphne.

"Well," said Daphne with a frown. "Let's get the books out of the way so we're not carrying too much while we're queued up."

"You _actually_ want to get your books signed?" asked Harry, a little shocked.

"Well, no," replied Daphne, a little uncertain.

"Then we need not queue up," said Harry. "Can we _please_ just get the books and get out of there?"

"Alright, Harry," she said.

Entering the store Harry didn't realise they'd walked past the Weasleys who were in the queue and only a couple of people back from the front.

The only other text Harry and Daphne needed was '_The Standard Book of Spells Grade 2_' by Miranda Goshawk. He already had a copy of it in his hands the previous year. However, he had to return it to Professor McGonagall. He didn't mind, though, purchasing a copy of his own.

He moved beyond the crowd and discovered Lockhart's books were only available from the stacks just behind and alongside the forget-me-not-blue-wearing 'woodpecker' where he sat at a table surround by photographs of himself.

'Sweet Merlin, the man's so vain he could be a wind-cock,' thought Harry.

He was thinking of sending Daphne into the crowd to collect the books, but realised that wouldn't have been gentlemanly of him. With a sigh, he threaded through to collect the books.

There was a man taking photographs and moving around near the front. His camera kept emitting puffs of purple smoke with each photo taken.

"Out of the way there," snarled the photographer at some unfortunate soul. "This is for the Daily Prophet."

And Harry heard a voice he recognised, Ron Weasley, snarl back, "Big deal!"

As he was about to pass Lockhart he heard him call out, "It can't be Harry Potter?"

The woodpecker surged to his feet, suddenly grabbed Harry and spun around. He felt himself then yanked in closer under the fop's arm

"Nice big smile, Harry," said the fop. "Together, you and I are worth the front page."

Harry immediately ducked his head and dropped straight down and away. As he came up with his back to the camera and outside of the arm, he snapped out with his foot in a 'push' kick right at Lockhart's closest ankle.

As soon as he connected, Lockhart squealed like a pig and tried to lift his foot at the same time as bending to the side to grab his ankle.

There was another flash and puff of purple smoke.

"_Never_ grab me like that, again!" snarled Harry in a near-shout right into the face of Lockhart where it was now level his own.

That drew quite a few gasps of outrage from those close by, whether they were there to get books signed, or were just drawn in by the crowd. Harry didn't know if they were outraged with him or Lockhart, and didn't care.

Trying to rescue the situation, Lockhart slammed his foot back down and stood up straight, with his smile firmly fixed to his face.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he said loudly, waving for quiet. "What an extraordinary moment this is! The perfect moment for me to make a little announcement I've been sitting on for some time!

"When young Harry here stepped into Flourish & Blotts today, he only wanted to buy my autobiography - which I shall be happy to present him now, free of charge."

The crowd, going with the flow, applauded.

"He had no idea," Lockhart continued, "that he would shortly be getting much, much more than my book, _Magical Me_. He and his schoolmates will, in fact, be getting the _real_ magical me. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I have great pleasure and pride in announcing that this September, I will be taking up the post of Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The crowd cheered and clapped and Harry found himself being presented, by way of them being shoved into his chest, with the entire works of Gilderoy Lockhart. Harry just glared back.

He then collected the same set, but for Daphne, and took them away back to Daphne and Isabel.

"Are you alright, Harry," asked Isabel.

"Yeah, thanks," said Harry. "He startled me. I wasn't expecting to be grabbed like that."

"So, he's the new DADA Professor," said Daphne, clearly not excited by the prospect of the woodpecker teaching them.

"Don't worry, Daphne," said Harry, quietly. "We'll make good use of the Come and Go Room and do our own studies."

"But, what will we actually use to study with?" she quietly asked. "I mean, it's not as if it's an OWL year, so the test isn't set by the Examination Board."

"Then how about we track down some copies of previous OWL tests and work backwards from those?" asked Harry. "We have the text from last year, after all. And I'm sure we can track down previous Second Year texts from better teachers of the subject."

"That would work," she mused. "Yes, that's a good idea."

While queuing up to purchase the books there was a commotion back in the queue of those waiting to get books signed. There was the sound of raised voices before someone crashed into a bookshelf, and the sound of heavy spell books crashing down.

Harry heard Fred, or maybe George, yell, "Get him, Dad!" followed by Missus Weasley shrieking, "No, Arthur; no!"

There was a sound of more shelves being knocked over. Then one of the shop assistants cried, "Gentlemen, please - please!" and then, louder than all, the voice of Hagrid, "Break it up, there, gents; break it up!"

Looking through, Harry saw Hagrid wading toward the fracas through the sea of books. In an instant he had pulled the combatants, Misters Weasley and some older gent who looked like an older version of Draco Malfoy, apart. Mister Weasley had a cut lip and Malfoy had been hit in the eye.

Malfoy thrust an old Transfiguration book at Ginny. His eyes glittering with malice, he snarled, "Here, girl - take your book - it's the best your father can give you."

Pulling himself out of Hagrid's grip Malfoy senior beckoned to Draco, who was standing nearby, and swept from the shop.

"Yeh should've ignored him, Arthur," said Hagrid, almost lifting Mister Weasley off his feet as he straightened his robes. "Rotten ter the core, the whole family, everyone knows that. No Malfoy's worth listenin' ter - bad blood, that's what it is. Come on now; let's get outta here."

The assistant looked as though he wanted to stop them leaving, but he barely came up to Hagrid's waist and seemed to think better of it.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Summer, as with all things, must come to an end. And Tuesday, the 1st of September, saw the Greengrasses and Harry back at Kings Cross Station and heading for Platform 9 ¾.

Harry was happy to enter by way of the muggle platforms as it would give him a chance to see Wendell and Monica again. They were taking the day off work and were bringing Hermione in by car. He found he actually liked them. They were in a minority of people around him who understood his references to the muggle world.

The Grangers beat them to the Station so the Greengrasses met them not far away from the barrier.

Harry was surprised when Daphne hurried forward and wrapped Hermione in a hug with both girls squealing and jumping up and down a little.

Hermione turned to Harry as he walked up and said, "How do I look, Harry?"

"Gahhh!" cried Harry feigning terror. Turning to Cygnus he said, "Cygnus, help! She asked me one of _those_ questions!"

Smirking back, Cygnus said, "Sorry, Harry; you're on your own. This is one of those character building moments."

Showing mock-disappointment Harry turned back to face Hermione. He could see she was standing there glaring at him with her hands on her hips. And so was Daphne.

"Errr - Ummm..." said Harry. "You look wonderful, Hermione."

"Uh-huh. And why is that, Harry? What have you noticed different about me?" she ominously asked.

"Ummm - You've grown a little taller..." he said.

"Keep going..." she said.

"Ummm - Your hair is looking really nice. Errr - It looks like your new shampoo is really working for you," he tried.

"Getting better, but you're not there yet," she said.

Having a brainwave, he said, "Sorry, Hermione. But, you see that lovely young lady standing next to you? We're betrothed, see? And - I only have eyes for her; no one else. What I said is about all I can possibly notice."

Both sets of hands left hips. Hermione crossed her arms and looked back at Harry with a bit of a smirk. "Nice save, Mister Potter."

Harry's hand flashed up to pat himself on the chest as he rocked back a couple of short steps. "I survived! Sweet Merlin, I survived one of those questions without being hexed!"

The adults chuckled and Isabel ruffled his hair. "Good answer."

The Granger parents left a little later and the Greengrasses escorted the three kids through to the barrier. Hermione was in front with her own trolley and case on top. This time she had a pet carrier with what Harry assumed was an orange tortoiseshell cat inside. Daphne was walking alongside Harry who was pushing the trolley with the two cases on top.

Hermione passed through the barrier and Harry confidently pushed the trolley to the wall; and ran into it. He nearly somersaulted over the handle of the trolley and banged his forehead on the top trunk. He came away with a slight cut over his eye.

"Ow!" he cried.

"What in Merlin's name?" said Cygnus.

Harry backed the trolley away a little to make sure everything was okay. As surreptitiously as possible, Isabel held his head up facing her by his chin and used a minor healing charm, _Episkey_, to heal the cut.

Cygnus then gently pushed the trolley until it began to pass through the barrier. With a shrug, he pushed right through. Daphne also successfully passed through.

Once the healing was done, Harry walked up to the barrier and stuck his hand out first. The wall was solid.

Isabel pulled him back and said, "Wait."

She then walked up to the barrier and shoved her hand through until it looked like she was leaning against the wall. With her arm through the wall to her shoulder she gestured for Harry to walk through. He was able to pass through and Isabel followed him.

On the platform the others were waiting anxiously.

"What was that?" asked Harry.

"It must be malfunctioning," said Cygnus.

"No," said Harry shaking his head. "It was only blocked when _I_ tried to pass through. If it wasn't for Isabel sticking her arm through and holding it there I have no doubt I'd still be out on the other side.

"Someone deliberately tried to prevent me getting on to the platform. What else could it be?"

"I'll be heading to the Ministry after you depart," said Cygnus. "I'm going to get someone to come and check the barrier and see if there's a malfunction; or, if someone really has tampered with it. It should only do that if a muggle tries to walk through."

"Well, we're now running a bit late," said Isabel. "You kids need to find your friends now or find them once you're on the train."

Hermione and Daphne nodded and led them down the length of the platform looking for the other four. They found them down near the rear of the train.

"You're late," said Susan. "What happened?"

"Trouble with the barrier," replied Daphne. "Harry couldn't get through."

"There was a problem with the barrier?" asked Aunt Amelia.

Cygnus nodded and said, "I intend to head directly into the Ministry and see if they can get someone out here to have a look at what happened."

"I'm heading directly in, too," said Aunt Amelia. "I'll join you."

"I think someone might have keyed it to reject me from entering," said Harry. "Maybe, have me seem as if I was a muggle and was refused?"

"Possible," said Cygnus. "I'll find out."

The Seven quickly boarded the train and found a compartment near the rear again.

Harry had his note out and stuck to the outside of the door while Neville and the girls were sorting themselves out inside.

Once done he entered, closed and locked the door. Sitting in the spot waiting for him next to Daphne, he took seat. Turning to the now locked door he placed the Door Sealing Charm on it and sat back.

"Well, that was a little excitement for the morning," he said.

"I've never heard of the barrier failing before," said Daphne. "It's a little worrying."

"There's always the slim possibility of it happening or failing altogether," said Susan. "That's why there's an emergency exit a little further along the platform. It's just a normal door that leads into a janitor's workroom, which then exits onto the outside Platform 9."

"Good to know," said Harry.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	34. Luna

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Four – Luna**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

They were about an hour into the journey when Harry excused himself to go to the toilet. As he was returning he ran across a young blonde haired girl with almost silver eyes who was dragging her trunk behind her. He noticed she was wearing small radishes as earrings. Her wand was tucked behind her right ear.

"Hello," he said. "Didn't like the people you were sitting with?"

"No. They demanded I leave," she said in a soft dreamy voice. "I have no idea why."

"Hmmm..." said Harry. "Well, we have one spare seat in our compartment. You can come and sit with us, I guess."

"Thank you. That would be nice," she said.

Harry got her turned around and led her back to their compartment.

Sticking his head in the door, he asked, "Do we have room for what looks like a lost Firstie for the rest of the trip?"

The others all looked at each other and Daphne said, "Sure. Why not."

Harry had Luna step in and take the spare seat while he levitated her trunk up into the racks.

Once he had it secured, he closed the door properly and locked it; then took his seat back next to Daphne and recast the Door Sealing Charm on the door.

Daphne handled the introductions while Harry was getting himself comfortable again.

When she reached Hermione, the girl asked in that same dreamy voice, "Hermione. That's a character out of a Shakespearian play, isn't it?"

A little surprised, Hermione said, "Yes. Yes it is. From '_The Winter's Tale_'. Very few people ever know that."

The introductions continued around to Harry. He was expecting a bit of a shock from the girl. Instead he got nothing. That surprised him. He thought her to be magical raised based on her odd muggle clothing choices.

"I like to dress this way, Harry. I like to be different," she suddenly said, as if knowing what he was thinking. "And where are my manners? I'm Luna. Luna Lovegood."

There were a few hellos from the group while Luna smiled. She then reached around to her back pocket and drew out a magazine. At least, it looked like a magazine until she opened it out and they could see it was a small newspaper.

Harry could see she was holding it upside down and was reading it.

Frowning a little, Harry asked, "Luna? Are you aware you're holding your newsmagazine upside down?"

"Oh, yes; thank you, Harry," she replied. "I became used to reading it this way when I was younger and watched my father putting issues together on our kitchen table. I would sit opposite and read it while he was working."

"That - kinda makes sense," he said, a little confused.

It wasn't too long before the rest of the group acted as if she wasn't there and began talking about anything and everything; as they were doing before she arrived. However, by unspoken agreement, they did not specifically discuss the Come and Go Room in front of her.

Hermione complained about how she had to leave her favourite book, 'Hogwarts: A History', behind because the Lockhart books took up too much room.

Harry said, "It's okay, Hermione; you can borrow mine once we get to Hogwarts. I'll bring it with me to breakfast."

"Thank you, Harry," she said, gratefully. "I'll return it when I can."

Harry shrugged and said, "Nah. Hold on to it."

She nodded.

After a couple of hours, Harry decided to try to get the new girl involved. He asked her, "What house are you hoping to get sorted into, Luna?"

"I will be in Ravenclaw, Harry," she calmly replied.

"Don't you mean you hope to be in Ravenclaw?" he gently asked.

"No," she replied with a shaking of her head. "I will be in Ravenclaw. The Hat will not disappoint me on this."

"Why do you want to be in Ravenclaw?" asked Daphne.

"Because I have the traits of the Lady Ravenclaw. Those traits she most sought for her House," the girl said.

"Well, I suppose even the Hat cannot argue with that logic," said Harry. "Are you sure you have them, though?"

"Very sure, Harry," she calmly replied with a smile.

"Then apparently I'll be welcoming you into Ravenclaw at the Sorting Feast," said Harry with a smile. "I'll sit on the end of the Second Years and save a place for you."

"I look forward to it," she replied. "Though, I am surprised."

"Why is that?" he asked.

"Because you should have been sorted into Slytherin," she said. "I'm surprised you managed to trick the Hat. He must be very cross with you."

"I'm sure he'll survive," laughed Harry. "Very few people know that."

"May I ask why you didn't want to be sorted into Slytherin?" she asked.

"I didn't want to be part of the poisoned relationship between Slytherin and Gryffindor," replied Harry with a shrug.

"I understand," she simply said.

"Harry, you're not supposed to trick the Hat," said Hermione. "Its job is to sort you, fairly!"

"Hermione, think what traits are supposed be present in a Slytherin. Do you think Crabbe and Goyle should be there, knowing that, instead of in Hufflepuff?" asked Harry.

"Now, Malfoy; he goes charging in. Look at his foolishness in challenging me to a duel in front of everyone in the Great Hall. The boy's a Gryffindor.

"And what about Ron Weasley in Gryffindor, where they pride themselves on bravery and derring-do. Doesn't he behave more like a Slytherin?"

"I - guess so," she said.

"If you want it bad enough, the Hat will place you in the House you want," said Harry. "And, clearly, Luna wants and is determined to be in Ravenclaw."

Talk turned to other matters and their door had been attempted to be opened only twice, and no one knocked.

When they were about an hour out of Hogsmeade the guys got down the trunks for the girls and stepped outside, closing the door behind them.

When the girls were finished, the boys allowed them out before sending the trunks back up, except for Harry's which again had Daphne's school robes in it. Then they got Neville's down.

The boys quickly changed and sent the trunks back up before letting the girls back in.

As soon as they were comfortable again, talk returned to what they were discussing immediately before Hermione, who was wearing a wind up wristwatch , suggested they change.

On arrival at Hogsmeade, Harry told Luna to leave her trunk on board and why. Then he escorted her off the train and sent her on her way to Hagrid, who was doing his "Firs' Years! Firs' Years!" call.

The Seven turned towards the carriages and boarded them as soon as they managed to snag one for themselves.

The ride was almost in silence except for Hermione saying, "I wonder if Professor Snape will be waiting for Harry, again, this time."

Harry shook his head and said, "Dumbledore won't miss the sorting. I believe he genuinely enjoys it."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As it was the Sorting Feast, the Seven split and went to their own House tables. This time Harry was quick to be as close as he could to the end on the side facing where the Hat would be placed. He made sure he left the five spaces for a possible ten new housemates to be sorted into their House.

Talk around the table while they waiting for the new First Years to arrive was, of course, what everyone did over summer; and Gilderoy Lockhart sitting in purple robes at the head table with a wide grin on his face. Harry told his year mates about visiting different friends and family around the island.

When one of the girls asked him something about Lockhart, Harry said, "I'll have to congratulate him."

"Oh?" she asked. "What ever for?"

"For being the only person I've seen, so far, who apparently likes to wear robes even uglier than Dumbledore's."

The girl wasn't happy hearing that and wouldn't talk to him again for the rest of the night.

When the First Years came in everyone first saw a big flash of light and a puff of purple smoke. At first, Harry thought the Weasley twins had decided to get their pranking in early this year. However, the flash and puff proved to be a blonde-haired boy with a camera. As soon as he entered the Hall he took the photograph.

However, behind the snap-happy boy, he was happy to see Luna looking around in awe, just like everyone else in her incoming year cohort.

The sorting song was along the same lines as the previous year and everyone appropriately applauded. Then the sorting actually commenced. Ravenclaw picked up the first sorted, a boy named Steven Bradley. The next was the budding photographer, Colin Creevey, who went to Gryffindor.

The sorting continued with Ravenclaw picking up a few more. Harry had to ask one lass, a girl named Shirley Fawcett, to leave a space for a friend. Before long Luna's name was called. As predicted she ended up in Ravenclaw, and Harry applauded as much as everyone else in his House. She immediately took the seat between him and Miss Fawcett.

Last to be called was Ginny Weasley. Harry felt like a bit of a heel because he hadn't thought about her for the whole train ride.

As the Hat was being placed on her head he could see her concentrate really hard. It took a few moments longer than usual but the Hat eventually sorted her into Gryffindor, along with the rest of the Weasleys.

Harry did notice she looked over to him a little sadly. He wondered why and hoped it wasn't because she was one of those fangirls.

"Ginny looked unhappy with her sort," said Luna.

"You know her?" asked Harry.

"Oh, yes," replied Luna. "Our homes aren't that far apart. We often played as small children together." Looking a little askance at Harry she said, "We even played at being the lucky girl who would marry Harry Potter."

Dumbledore stood and gave his brief little speech he always does, then the feast was served. Harry returned to the conversation while he was loading his plate from the wide selection before him.

"Then you both must have been disappointed to learn I was actually betrothed," said Harry, not a little worried.

"No, I wasn't," said Luna. "To me, it was always a game. But I think Ginny actually believed she would marry you, one day. She was crushed when that article came out in the Daily Prophet. She came running to my home carrying that issue of the Prophet and crying."

"She brought a copy with her?" asked Harry.

"Oh, yes. Daddy won't have it in our house. He thinks it's nothing but a - 'Lying scandal sheet that wouldn't know the truth if it was written as a statement of fact and signed in blood.' He really does not like them."

"Then it sounds like I need to organise a subscription to - _The Quibbler_, then," said Harry.

Luna beamed at him and said, "I shall organise it for you, Harry. It will only cost a little over a galleon for the whole year. And I have subscription forms available in my trunk."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At the end of the Feast, the First Years were led out by two Prefects and Harry hung back a bit to give Daphne a good night kiss before they each headed for their own common rooms.

Like a true feast, the Sorting and other feasts held throughout the year were always many multiple courses. They had salad, light soup, entree, mains, and desserts. Thinly sliced cheese was always available on the table to cleanse the palate between courses.

The number of courses was also the main reason they headed straight from the Great Hall to their common rooms. The feast went on for hours.

The next morning, Harry was a little late to rise and found everyone but Neville and Hermione at the Hufflepuff table.

"God!" said Harry. "I feel like I've only just eaten and we're already sitting down for breakfast."

"You'll burn it off quick enough in the Come and Go Room," said Tracey. "I couldn't believe how fast over summer I started to lose that lovely toning we'd all developed last year training with those training dummies."

Nodding, Susan said, "Yes, we should have been doing something by way of exercise during the break."

"Something to consider organising for next summer," said Daphne. "I doubt the Christmas break is long enough to trouble us _too_ much."

"How about we head for the Room straight after class and before lunch?" asked Tracey. "I have this irrational fear it's no longer there."

The group agreed, and each would head directly to the Room straight from class.

As they were talking, their class schedules were handed out.

Harry took one look at it and said, "It's the same as last year. Nothing's different."

As they were discussing classes they were approached by young Malfoy and both goons. He was carrying an old copy of the Daily Prophet and dumped it on the table in front of Harry with the front page uppermost. On it was a picture of Harry just after he'd kicked Lockhart in the ankle.

"Bet you loved that, didn't you, Potter?" said Malfoy, wearing his usual sneer. "Famous Harry Potter. Can't even go into a bookshop without making the front page."

"Actually, I more love the expression on the face of the woodpecker, Lockhart," he laughed, before showing the others. "The silly git grabbed me inappropriately."

Looking up at Malfoy, he said, "Thanks for bringing that all the way from home on the Express for me, Malfoy. It gives me a chance to show the others the true side of Gilderoy Lockhart; idiot extraordinaire."

"I wonder if he still has the bruise," said Daphne.

Malfoy had clearly hoped to embarrass Harry in front of his friends. Instead, he had unwantedly earn the thanks of the boy and aided him in providing humour for his friends.

Malfoy stormed off, upset his plan didn't work out as he expected, just as Harry heard someone in a boyish excited voice call his name in greeting. Harry looked up just in time to get half blinded by a camera flash with the *poomph!* sound of a camera flash going off close by.

He was about to yell at the particular idiot when Susan, thinking quickly, snatched the camera out of the boy's fingers and dropped it onto the table between them.

Harry glared at the boy and, in a quiet snarl, said, "Don't. Ever. Do. That. Again."

The boy paled and, stammering, replied, "S - Sorry, Harry. I - I just wanted a picture. You know? To send my parents."

"And you, in any way, did not _think_ before you acted, did you?" asked Harry.

The boy just shook his head, still quite afraid.

"Then I shall _tell_ you what you did wrong, Mister Creevey," said Harry. "Your first mistake was not _asking_ for my permission, and receiving it, _before_ you took my photo. Your second, was that you acted overly-familiar with me by calling me by my first name; instead of calling me Mister Potter. That was an insult."

Harry reached out and lifted the camera off the table, turning it in his hands.

Turning to look at the boy again, he said, "You lack common etiquette, Mister Creevey. My betrothed, Miss Greengrass," indicating Daphne beside him, "and I, run an etiquette club every other Sunday, here in the castle. Next Sunday - not this one - you are to report yourself to the clubroom on the third floor _by_ 4.30pm. There, you will be taught what you need to know to make your way in wizarding society. Am I clear?"

The boy nodded.

"Good lad," said Harry, handing him back his camera. "Do _not_ take photos of people without their permission, _in advance_, again. Run along." And made a shooing motion.

The boy shot away as if he had a dragon looking to take a bite out of his behind.

"Was that _completely_ necessary, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"Better a verbal slap down now, than someone making it a physical one later," replied Harry.

"And, I believe Neville, Hermione, Susan and Hannah need to make a move if they do not wish to be late to their first class of the new year," said Daphne, defusing the situation.

"And we're free until after lunch," said Harry.

Just as the Snakes and Puffs were about to leave, Luna walked over and handed Harry a small parchment. "The subscription form you requested, Harry," she airily said, before starting to walk away again.

"Thank you, Luna," he said. While bidding the others a good morning of study, even if it was History of Magic, he pulled out ink and a quill and began to fill the subscription form out.

"What have you got there, Harry?" asked Hermione.

"A subscription form for The Quibbler," he said.

"The newsmagazine Luna's dad produces?" she asked.

"That's the one," replied Harry.

"Errrr... Harry?" asked Neville a little hesitantly. "Are you aware Luna's dad, Xenophilius, is considered a little odd? The Quibbler tends to report a lot of fanciful stuff and makes it seem like it's real."

"In other words," said Harry, looking up. "Not that much different from the Daily Prophet, then. At least with The Quibbler it appears people have learned not to take what it reports too seriously, as they do with the Prophet."

Neville thought about that for a couple moments and then snorted in amusement. "You've got a point, there."

"So, what shall we do until lunch, then?" asked Harry.

"We could study," said Hermione.

"We could go up to the Room early," said Neville. "We can train and Hermione can study there."

"Two birds with one stone," said Harry. "Does that suit you, Hermione?"

"Yes," she replied. "I figured out I can get just about any book the library offers in there."

"And, speaking of books," said Harry. "I've got my copy of '_Hogwarts: A History_' in my bag for you, as promised. I'll even carry it for you up to the Room."

Hermione grinned. Clearly, he was forgiven for his remarks to young Mister Creevey.

After Harry finished filling out the form he noticed Luna had already left. So he blew on it to make sure it was dried before dropping it into his bookbag, along with the ink and his quill.

The three then left and headed down into the dungeons to use the hidden passageway up to the seventh floor.

Reaching the needed corridor, Harry walked the three times while thinking of 'their' room and, as soon as the door appeared, he led the other two inside.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As lunch came around, after a good workout with the training dummies, Harry and the others left to head for the Great Hall.

On entering, they sat at the Ravenclaw table. Young Luna was already there seeming to build some sort of castle with her food before promptly attacking it. He watched, amused, for a while.

Once she seemed to be able to handle talking to him, Harry pulled out his subscription to The Quibbler, together with the subscription fee of 1₲ 5Š and handed the subscription and coins over to the girl.

Luna calmly took them and dropped them into her bookbag before she breezily said, "Thank you, Harry. I shall see to the sending off of your subscription to Daddy after classes, this afternoon. I will even include a note informing him you paid the fee directly to me."

"Thank you, Luna," said Harry, with a nod. "That would be appreciated."

Returning to his friends, Harry told Daphne and the others how he quickly felt when he began training with the dummies, again. Neville and Hermione said the same.

"I felt - slow," he explained. "Either that or - no, I definitely felt slow. I've definitely lost a little off the edge in speed in accuracy. That's something I'm going to have to overcome before I can advance any further."

After lunch Harry, Daphne and Tracey had Defence Against the Dark Arts; so headed upstairs to that particular classroom.

When they entered they were confronted with quite the number of photographs of the dim-witted woodpecker smiling at them over and over from the various images.

As usual the sitting arrangements divided over House lines. However, Harry went and sat between Daphne and Tracey. It earned him quite a few scowls from Slytherins and Ravenclaws alike.

They had all just found their seats and were pulling out parchment quills and ink when the turquoise-robed prat entered.

He gave some silly monologue about how great he was and then moved to his desk. Harry hadn't noticed it before; but, sitting on the desk, appeared to a be a box shape with a black cloth covering it.

"We shall first be taking a little test. This is so I have an idea of how well you all know me," the prat declared. And they were all treated to another dazzling smile.

Lockhart called up one of the girls to come and collect a great stack of parchment to be handed around. And, soon, each student had three sheets of parchment before them.

"Have you noticed how the idiot continually poses for photographs ever though there's no camera around?" muttered Harry.

Both girls lightly giggled behind their hands.

Looking around the classroom Harry could see that almost all the girls were looking at the fop with dreamy smiles. At least, those whose faces he could see.

Finally, looking down at what was before him, Harry could see it was a test with about eighteen questions on each page.

"I want you all to answer the questions," posed, yet again, the fop. "But, have no fear, I shall make sure you're all aware of the proper answers to the questions next lesson before we move on to a practical side of Defence Against the Dark Arts for the day. "For now, you may take up your quills and begin."

Looking at the top sheet, Harry began to read and answer the questions

_Defence Against the Dark Arts - Second Year Essential Knowledge Test_

_1. What is Gilderoy's favourite colour?_ Flash purple, the colour of the smoke emitted by a wizarding camera when it takes a photograph.

_2. What is Gilderoy's Lockhart's secret ambition?_ To prove that you actually can fool all of the people, all of the time.

_3. What, in your opinion, is Gilderoy Lockhart's greatest achievement to date?_ Fooling most of the people, all of the time.

_4. How many times has Gilderoy Lockhart won Witch Weekly's Most Charming Smile Award?_ Never. He bribed the editor into awarding it to him each time he claims he has won it.

_5. In his book Break with a Banshee, how did Gilderoy Lockhart bravely banish the Bandon Banshee?_ It doesn't say. The method he claims in the aforementioned fictional work, he is incapable of achieving.

_6. Which is Gilderoy Lockhart's best side for photographs?_ His backside.

_7. Has Gilderoy Lockhart ever won the Dunstable Duelling Championship for wizards or just been pipped at the post?_ I don't think Lockhart even knows when and where it's held.

_8. Which product does Gilderoy Lockhart use to clean his teeth with to achieve his famous dazzling white smile?_ Hippogriff shite. He spews so much of it he has plenty to spare. And he uses a simple cantrip to make his teeth sparkle.

On and on the questions went until Harry finally reached the final question.

_54. When is Gilderoy Lockhart's birthday and what would his ideal gift be?_ To spend decades within Azkaban for defrauding the public by claiming his works of fiction to be fact. Oh, that would be what I think would be his 'ideal gift'.

Finally setting his quill aside, Harry saw he was nearly the last to finish.

Both Daphne and Tracey were reading his answers as he wrote them once he was about halfway through and were trying hard not to burst out into loud laughter. Daphne had tears in her eyes and was making liberal use of a handkerchief, while Tracey was not far off being the same.

Once he was done, he sat there trying to calm the girls down until the fop called for the tests to be handed forward. Once they were all back to him, the idiot practically strutted around to the other side of the desk.

"Today, we learn how to deal with pixies!" beamed the idiot, while whisking the cover off the cage with a flourish. "Now, as you can plainly see, these are Cornish pixies. Devilishly tricky little blighters, they can be!"

The pixies were electric blue and about eight inches high, with pointed faces and voices so shrill it was like listening to a lot of budgies arguing. The moment the cover had been removed, they had started jabbering and rocketing around, rattling the bars and making bizarre faces at the people nearest them.

"Don't worry," the fop said, a bit condescendingly, "If any of you have trouble with them, I will be here to bail you out."

"Now _this_ can prove interesting," muttered Harry to the two girls. "I wouldn't have thought we'd move to Stunning Spells this early. The book calls for that spell to be taught during our third year."

Having already drawn his own wand, the fop gave them a quick demonstration of a wand movement and said the incantation, "_Peskipiksi Pesternomi!_"

Harry just snorted.

Harry made sure the two girls had the proper wand movements and incantation for the Stunning Spell down while he had half an eye on the idiot.

"Now, children!" said the twit. "Let's have a go at them, shall we?" And he opened the cage wide.

It was pandemonium. The pixies shot in every direction like rockets. Two of them seized one poor boy by the ears and lifted him into the air. Several shot straight through the window, showering the back row with broken glass. The rest proceeded to wreck the classroom more effectively than a rampaging rhino. They grabbed ink bottles and sprayed the class with them, shredded books and papers, tore pictures from the walls, up-ended the rubbish basket, grabbed bags and books and threw them out of the smashed window; within minutes, half the class was sheltering under desks and the boy was swinging from the iron chandelier in the ceiling.

The only calm spot was in the back where Tracey was shielding Harry and Daphne, while those two were having a ball shooting underpowered Stunning Charms at the little blue beasties knocking them out of the air one-by-one.

"Come on now - round them up, round them up, they're only pixies," Lockhart shouted.

He rolled up his sleeves, brandished his wand, and bellowed, "_Peskipiksi Pesternomi!_"

It had absolutely no effect; one of the pixies seized his wand and threw it out of the window, too. Lockhart gulped and dived under his own desk, narrowly avoiding being squashed by the boy, who fell a second later as the chandelier gave way.

The bell rang and there was a mad rush toward the exit. In the relative calm that followed, Lockhart straightened up, caught sight of Harry, Daphne and Tracey, who were having loads of fun, and said, "Well, I'll ask you three to just nip the rest of them back into their cage." He swept past them and shut the door quickly behind him.

"Can you believe him?" said Tracey as one of the remaining pixies attempted to get around her shield.

"He just wants to give us some hands-on experience," said Daphne, between casts while trying to take aim on a pixie that was attempting to hide behind one of the photographs.

"Hands on?" asked Harry, who was trying to take out a particularly annoying pixie that was trying to carry the now empty rubbish bin over and dump it on them. "Daphne, he didn't have a clue what he was doing."

Daphne was giggling between shots. "You've read his books. Look at all those _amazing_ things he's done."

"Ha!" replied Harry.

"If he's _this_ dangerous in other classes, especially with the Firsties, and I find out about it, I'm going to get him kicked out of this school one way or the other," said Harry firmly. "Kids could get hurt."

Once they were sure they'd managed to stun all the little buggers, the three of them went around and collected up all their little bodies and stuffed them back inside the cage.

"Any more?" asked Daphne.

Harry and Tracey both shooks their heads while checking underneath things, just in case they were wrong.

Daphne closed and locked the cage and then hit it with the Enervate Charm, _Renervate_, waking them all up again.

Then the three used wide-area Repair Charms, _Reparo_, to set most of the classroom back to rights. Once done, they left, with Harry muttering something about useless peacocks.

"Come on," said Tracey. "The others are expecting us in our Room. They want to know how our first class with Lockhart went as they have him tomorrow afternoon."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	35. Tryouts

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Five - Tryouts**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once in the Room, they saw Susan and Hannah talking with Neville and Hermione. Hermione had her class schedule on the table in front of her.

Walking up Harry looked down at Hermione's schedule and saw that the DADA lessons all had little hearts and sparkles around them.

"Oh, dear," said Harry.

Hermione, finally noticing Harry was leaning over the back of her chair gave a little "Eep!" sound before scooping up her schedule and stuffing it between the pages of a text book.

Harry sighed and walked around her chair to occupy another.

"How did DADA go?" asked Neville.

"As expected," said Daphne. "Lockhart is a fraud."

"What?" gasped Hermione. "But - he can't be! He - He's written all these books..."

"Hermione," said Daphne, cutting the poor girl off before she had an anxiety attack or something.

"What?" gasped the girl.

"He's a fraud, Hermione," said Daphne as gently as she could. "Harry's right. He couldn't even control a bunch of Cornish pixies. He fled the room and left it to us three to clean them up and dump them into a cage."

"But - his books - he wrote..." tried Hermione again.

"They're fiction, Hermione," said Harry. "Just like those books written about me. They're all - Wait a minute!"

"What is it, Harry?" asked Tracey.

"Roy E. Gild," replied Harry, smacking himself in the forehead. "The one who supposedly wrote most of those books about me. The author's name was supposedly Roy E. Gild; but, no one had even heard of him. And the publisher was keeping his yap shut.

"Hang on!" he said, reaching for and into his book bag. He drew out one of Lockhart's books and turned to the inside cover where the details of the book are always written. "Yeah, I thought so. It's the same publisher; Obscurus Books in Diagon Alley."

"There's not that many wizarding world publishers in Britain, Harry. What's the big deal with this one?" asked Daphne.

"The name of the author of those fantasy works we've been trying to track down to sue? Roy E. Gild? What's the first name of our new DADA Professor - who also happens to have his books published through the same publisher - and has experience writing fiction to make it look like fact?"

"Gilderoy," said Hermione, before she gasped.

"Exactly," said Harry. "Roy E. Gild is Gilderoy. Lockhart's the - mongrel - we've been trying to find."

"But, there are witnesses to much of what Professor Lockhart wrote about," tried Hermione. "There's _evidence_."

"That may be, Hermione," said Harry. "But there are also inconsistencies in the very books themselves that show them to be fiction."

"What? - But - Where?" she stuttered.

Harry sighed and pulled the books out of his bookbag. He then laid them out and started flicking through them. He stopped in one book and said to Hermione, "Here, read this about the dates, and where it supposedly occurred."

While Hermione was reading that, he picked up another and flicked through it until he landed on the right page. He held it open while Hermione read.

When she'd finished, Harry placed the next book on top of the one still in her hands and said, "Now read this one. Take note of the dates and where it was supposed to have occurred."

Harry then reached for a third book and started flipping through it before he found the page he wanted.

She read through the section Harry had indicated in the second book and looked up at him in confusion. "But, that's not possible," she said.

"There's more," he calmly said, offering her the third book before taking the first two off her. "Read from the second paragraph on the left."

Then he pulled out a fourth book and flipped through it quickly finding the right page.

When Hermione looked up in further confusion, Harry offered her the fourth book and said, "Right hand page third paragraph."

Bending her head to, once again, read, Hermione took note of what Harry had pointed out.

Finally, Harry pulled out his copy of _Magical Me!_ and started flipping through it. He found the first of what he wanted and, as Hermione looked up, almost in tears, handed her the book and said, "Left hand page, first paragraph."

Hermione read through it. When she looked up, he said, "Page 48, second paragraph."

Hermione quickly flipped through the book until she found the right paragraph; and read that and the next few.

When she finished, she didn't look up - only lowering the book to her lap - and quietly said, "He lied. Over and over again, he lied."

Harry then reached out and took the book from her loose fingers, closing it and placing the lot back on the table. "Yes. He lied. There are also others, but those are the main points. I daresay those feats in his books _were_ accomplished. But not by him."

"No," said a quite sad Hermione. "He couldn't have been in two places at once. Once may have been a publishing error, but not more than once, and over and over again.

"Unless they're clearly identified as fiction, books should be about educating the reader with facts. You're supposed to be able to _trust_ they're the truth. I'm - _I'm_ supposed to be able to trust they're the truth."

"Well, here we have an author who doesn't believe that. Plus, he's clearly being abetted by the publisher," replied Harry. "Now that we know the true identity of Mister Gild, I'll be letting Cygnus know so we can go after him."

"I doubt, once this all comes out, our dear Professor Lockhart will be DADA Professor for much longer," said Susan. "Part of the requirements for the job, any job at Hogwarts, is a sterling reputation."

Neville snorted and said, "Our dear Headmaster and Professor Snape, aside."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Daphne drafted the letter to her father while Harry wrote down all the conflicting 'facts' across the books. It took him a while and Daphne had long since finished while Harry was still writing.

He had only just managed to have everything written down when they had to leave hurriedly to get down to the Great Hall for dinner. If they hadn't used the shortcuts through the castle they would have been late.

Daphne carried both the letter and a copy of Harry's notes after he'd used the Copy Charm on them. His own copy was in his bookbag.

Down at the Great Hall they decided to take seat at the Slytherin table for dinner. The new Firsties all looked at them rather oddly but didn't say a word, merely gave them room.

Harry turned to the Firsties as a whole and said, "You don't have to sit at your own House table for all meals; only the Sorting and Leaving Feasts. At all other meals you can sit where you like.

"So, if you have friends in other Houses, you can go and sit with them for meals, if you like. Don't ever allow anyone to tell you any different, alright?"

He received just under a dozen nods back from the wide-eyed Firsties. "Thank you," said one young girl.

As he was talking, Hedwig entered through the owl entry ports at the peak of the roof and flew down to land in front of him. As a snowy owl, she flies silently. His only indication she'd arrived was the sound of her landing just in front of his plate.

"Hello, girl!" he said to her, pulling an owl treat out of his robes and offering it to her. "Daphne has a letter for you to take to Cygnus. Alright?"

Hedwig bobbed her head once and turned to Daphne. She then tilted slightly to her side and lifted her, now higher, wing to allow the harness on that side to be accessed.

Quite amused, Daphne attached the letter, combined with Harry's notes, to Hedwig's harness. And, said to the owl, "Thank you for doing this, Hedwig."

Standing back up straight Hedwig hopped up onto Daphne's shoulder and gave her cheek a bit of a rub before taking wing and flying back into the rafters.

"Wow, she's really smart!" said one of the Firsties.

Harry smiled back and said, "Hedwig is my bonded familiar, as well as being the owl of a Head of House. She's _very_ intelligent."

From behind, Harry heard Snape say, "You're not attempting to corrupt my little snakes are you, Potter?"

Harry smiled and turned to look at the man standing behind him. "Certainly not, Professor. I am, in fact, providing them with information concerning the relationship between myself and my bonded familiar; my owl, Hedwig."

Snape just huffed before moving away again.

Speaking along similar thoughts to his own, Tracey said, "You've got to admit, he might be a cranky mongrel at times; however, he sure takes looking after the members of his House quite seriously."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A few days later, on the Saturday, Harry was walking with the others from the Great Hall after enjoying dinner, down to the secret passage from the dungeons to the seventh floor when he heard a loudly whispering voice. It was a voice, a voice to chill the bone marrow, a voice of breathtaking, ice-cold venom. §Come - come to me - Let me rip you - Let me tear you - Let me kill you... §

Harry came to a sudden halt in the middle of the corridor in shock. Susan walked into his back, not expecting him to suddenly stop.

"Merlin, Harry!" she said a bit cross. "Why'd you stop like that?"

"What?" he asked, trying to concentrate on what he heard.

"I asked you why you stopped like that," said Susan.

"No," said Harry frantically. "That voice!"

"Sorry?" said Susan, looking puzzled. "What voice?"

"That - that voice that said - didn't you hear it?"

"What are you talking about, Harry?" asked Daphne.

Harry didn't answer. He was straining his ears to hear the voice again, but there was no sound now except for the others all asking what he was talking about.

Shaking his head, he replied, "It - must have been nothing. I just thought I heard a voice..." Shaking his head again he said, "Forget it. I must be hearing things," and started walking again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Two weeks later, Harry kept his promise to Hermione of the previous year. On her birthday he gifted her with a necklace. What he didn't tell her, but Daphne knew, it was from the Potter vaults and had certain charms placed upon it.

Along with the normal anti-theft charms it had a certain amount of protection from Hexes and Curses. It would also alert Harry, through his Head of House ring, if she was attacked by such anywhere within the castle or the close surrounding grounds.

The necklace had a large pyrope garnet shaped in a tear drop. It was a very dark red that worked well with her brown eyes and hair. It was encased in a nine carat gold basket frame and suspended on a twelve carat gold chain.

On seeing it, Hermione nearly burst into tears. Daphne hung it around her neck as the girl was unable to concentrate enough to operate the tiny clasp.

Holding the stone in the palm of her hand, Hermione said, "It's beautiful."

"It is," said Hannah. "And perfect for you."

Turning to Harry, she said, "You have excellent taste, Harry."

With a shrug, he replied, "Well, one of my ancestors did. I just saw it and thought how it suited Hermione. That's why I've gifted it to her. Besides, as her Protector, I have to go just that bit beyond the normal with gifts for her."

Hermione reached out and grabbed Harry on his forearm. "No, you don't," she said. "Making - no - _accepting_ me as your protectee is more than enough."

Harry just chuckled and said, "No, I'm sorry; it doesn't work that way. I have to show everyone else I'm still fully committed to my role as your protector. The little bauble I've given you is a mark of that."

When Hermione looked to the others for confirmation as she withdrew her hand, they nodded back.

Daphne said, "It's a beautiful gift that sends just the right message, Hermione. It's a very astute move on Harry's part; which is why I also agreed with it. Though he didn't _need_ my permission, anyway."

"I'm glad you agreed with it," said Hermione softly. "I wouldn't want to accept such an expensive gift if it made you feel - uncomfortable."

Daphne giggled and said, "I do not doubt Harry's love for and dedication to me, Hermione. Have no fear of that."

That earned Daphne a kiss from Harry. It was the first time he'd ever initiated a mouth to mouth kiss. And Daphne realised it.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Straight after the giving of gifts for Hermione's birthday, Harry had to grab his broom and head down to the Quidditch pitch for tryouts for the Ravenclaw team. Simone Martin, now a Seventh Year, had kept his promise and offered Harry the chance to tryout for the seeker spot.

When he arrived he received death glares from no less than three Third Year girls. One was Cho Chang, and the other two were clearly her friends as well as dorm mates.

Martin, in order to gauge the skills of the two seekers, sent them both aloft at the same time. He told them the snitch would become visible exactly thirty seconds after he released it. Which would be as soon as they rose into the normal seeker overwatch position.

As Martin was giving them their instruction the rest of the group came down to watch. "Hey!" he yelled at them. "No spying!"

"We're not!" called back Daphne. "We hope you kick Slytherin butt!"

Martin, not knowing how to respond to that, thought better of whatever he was going to say and ignored them.

The group headed into one of the tribunes to watch.

Harry asked for a chance to warm up a bit before taking to the overwatch position and was given the okay. Cho joined him.

Harry shot into the air at a great rate of knots. As soon as he reached the middle of the pitch he immediately pointed his broom straight up. At about two hundred feet up he cancelled all forward momentum and allowed the broom to fall backwards out of the sky before flipping it over backwards and pointing straight down.

Accelerating down he corkscrewed the broom before pulling up a bare three feet off the grass and heading straight up again, corkscrewing all the way.

At about fifty feet up he looped the broom up and over before pulling out and completing a second one. As he pulled out of the second, at speed, he heel-pushed the back of the broom out and skidded it across the sky. At the time, he was completely out of the 'saddle' of the broom and it was only his back foot and one hand on the handle that showed he hadn't simply lost control and was about to fall off.

Just as the broom was about to come to a complete stop he pulled the broom back under him and let it fall out of the sky before swooping towards the three goals at the nearer end of the field.

He flew through the middle ring before looping up and over and ducking through the second, then the third.

Heading into his third loop he, instead, Immelmann turned and headed back to the middle of the field, pulling a sloth grip roll for the fun of it.

Diving steeply he hopped up out of the saddle and planted his left foot on top of the knot above the brush twigs, pushing down with his foot while pulling back with his right hand causing the broom to flare out.

Just as he was about to hit the ground at barely walking pace he dropped back into the 'saddle' and said to the now mouth-gaping Martin, "Thanks! That should do it," before hurtling back into the sky to the overwatch position.

When he reached height he was met with a scowling Chang who then turned her nose up at him and flew away to the other end of the field.

As soon as he knew the snitch was released, he began a count down in his head and hoped his timing wasn't too far off.

Just in case, he began searching the sky for the elusive little golden winged ball at twenty-five in his count.

A few seconds later, he saw it over near one of the tribunes and took off after it.

Hard on it's winged 'heels' he brushed against the walls of one of the tribunes and followed it as it ducked down almost a foot off the grass.

Taking a moment he glanced to see Chang diving towards him from on high but nowhere near him yet.

When the snitch suddenly changed direction by shooting straight up he caught it by just about leaping out of his broom and snatching it overhead with one hand pulling up on the handle and pushing down with his feet.

Returning to Martin he handed off his prize with a big grin on his face.

Now stationery he could hear the group cheering wildly up in the tribunes.

"Merlin, Potter!" said Martin. "When your Slytherin girl said you could fly..." He shook his head in wonder.

When Chang joined them Martin said, "Alright. You may be able to fly and focus on finding the snitch. But, how well will you do when there are a couple of beaters and a bludger to deal with."

He then pointed to two guys dressed as Ravenclaw beaters and said, "You two. I want you up in the air with _a_ bludger. Your job is to make life hard for both seekers."

The two looked each other before grinning and taking to the air with their bats. They carried the bludger aloft with them.

Martin then said, "Alright. Same as last time. In the air and I'll release the snitch. It will be visible after thirty seconds. Go!"

Harry and Chang immediately took off with Harry easily outstripping Chang in getting into the overwatch position.

"Go!" called Martin with a Voice Amplifying Charm, as he released the snitch.

Harry immediately dove between the two beaters and pulled up drawing the bludger after himself. And flew straight at Chang. The Third Year had to suddenly dive in order to avoid the bludger following Harry and flew straight at one of the beaters to get it off her tail.

Harry used the opportunity to start scanning the sky.

When he saw the bludger heading his way again, he allowed it to pass over him as he performed a stationary sloth grip roll and pointed the broom straight down knowing the iron ball would perform a sharp loop and come back at him again.

Instead of using one of the beaters to draw the ball off his tail, he immediately headed for Chang, who was heading back up. It, again, changed players and started after her.

As soon as he managed to get the bludger off his tail he sped towards the other end of the field. Whereupon he caught sight of the snitch down low next to the goal posts. And, he was after it.

As he raced to the other end he saw the snitch suddenly dart back towards him. However, he was unable to get his hand down fast enough as it passed directly under his broom.

Skid turning the broom he quickly had it around and heading back the other way when he saw the bludger heading almost directly straight at him, and he accelerated straight back at it. At a height of about four feet off the ground he performed another sloth grip roll at high speed, allowing the bludger to pass over the broom, and allowed his eyes to scan the area ahead for the elusive little golden ball.

Knowing the bludger would have turned around by now he angled his broom upwards towards the beaters and saw Chang diving down on the other side of them.

Changing course he did a lazy barrel roll over the nearest beater and hared down after Chang allowing the speed of the broom coupled with gravity to allow him to come over the top of her.

Seeing the snitch make a sudden sweep turn he stayed with it and found himself ahead of the Eurasian girl.

A few moments later he had the snitch firmly in his hand.

Returning to the ground next to Martin he, again, handed the snitch off.

Chang landed next to him and cast murderous eyes back at him. "You could have killed me flying over me like that! What if I had to suddenly pull up?"

"That was the whole point, Miss Chang," replied Harry, coolly. "I could have, if I wanted to, run you straight into the side of one of the towers. However, I did not. You had room to pull up simply by turning away."

As he was responding to the furious girl, the two beaters landed nest to him. One of them, Roger Davies, said, "Bloody Hell, Potter! That was some _incredible_ flying."

"How high up were you when you pulled that roll down near the ground?" asked the other.

"About four feet!" exclaimed Martin. "Four _bloody_ feet off the ground, and he pulls a move like that!"

"Well?" asked Harry. "Are we going again?"

"No," said all three. When Martin glared at them the two beaters had the decency to look abashed.

Turning to Chang, Martin said, "As I promised, there's a spare slot in the chasers. Do you want to try out for it?"

"Yes," snarled Chang.

"Right, then," said Martin, before turning to other hopefuls for the chaser and keeper slots. "All those who want to try out for the vacant chaser position, up in the air! All those trying out for keeper, up in the air!"

Turning back to Harry, he said, "Training starts Monday morning with fitness training. It's also a 'getting to know each other' time. Meet us in the Entrance Hall at 6.30am sharp. Don't be late."

Knowing a dismissal when he heard one, Harry remounted his broom and flew up into the tribune where he knew Daphne and his friends would be. He landed next to them a few moments later.

Looking at their hopeful faces he grinned and said, "I got it."

With a squeal of joy, Daphne threw herself into his arms before kissing him with abandon.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, the rest of the group entered the Great Hall to find Harry half-sprawled off the Ravenclaw table onto the bench seating.

Daphne and Harry were the first to arrive and found him like that.

Daphne sat down next to her betrothed and gave Harry a little shake, thinking him asleep.

"Ow!" he said. "Hurts!"

"Harry?" she asked. "Somebody hex you? I didn't feel my ring tell me."

"No," he moaned. "Quidditch training."

Tracey started chuckling. "Come now, Harry. It couldn't have been that bad."

Harry lifted his head a little and glared at the 'filthy snake' sitting opposite. "Martin said it was just going to be a 'getting to know each other' session," he whined. "He told me it was just going to be a 'little bit of a workout' to 'knock the rust off our lazy summers'. He told me it was only to gauge our inherent fitness levels. He's a filthy liar!"

Harry saw that other members of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team were taking seat at the table down it's length. Except for Martin, they all glanced back with shared pain and sympathy.

By the time Martin himself turned up, the rest of their group had assembled. Daphne and Tracey told them why Harry appeared half-dead.

When he finally felt he could lift his head without too much pain, Harry cried out, "Simon Martin is a dark lord in disguise!" And promptly dropped his head back onto the table top.

His words were greeted with laughter from the others on the table. Even Martin grinned in response.

"Come now, Potter," he said. "A little light workout is good for the soul."

Harry flipped him the two-fingered salute; which earned him more laughter.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the Sunday afternoon, a week later, Harry and Daphne were early to their second club meeting of the year. Unsurprisingly many of the First Year muggle-born and -raised had attended. When asked what led them to attend, they all said it was older students who had attended the previous year said they should.

That sort of recommendation made both their hearts soar with pride. It's one thing for the Professors to recommend the club; but, when the previous - or ongoing - members are the ones doing the recommending, that's high praise, indeed.

And this time they also welcomed those from the previous year who had wanted to attend but either didn't get started early enough, or their numbers would have exceeded their self-imposed limit to membership numbers. Harry made sure that those who had wanted to join the previous year, and couldn't, were each sent personal invitations to attend this year.

When they saw one of the earliest to attend on the first day was a Ravenclaw in the year above Harry, and had judiciously attended each and every club meeting, Harry looked at him askance with a small smile. "And just what brings you here, Mister Bradley?"

"Errr - Refresher course, Harry," the boy said brightly, while trying to look innocent.

Harry burst out laughing and said, "A refresher course, eh? Less than four months since you attended the last meeting of the first intake; and _you_ call yourself a Ravenclaw."

The boy had the decency to look abashed.

"Take a seat, Bradley," said Harry, still laughing. "However, if we need to watch our numbers, you're gone. But, don't worry, we'll also by then be looking at the alternate Sunday idea of having an advanced club for those who've already been with us for a year."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	36. First Attack

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Six – First Attack**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

October faded to the end of the month when the annual Halloween Feast was to be held. Thankfully, it was on a Saturday, this year.

Harry spent the day walking with Daphne along the edge of the lake for a while, then with the others in the Come and Go Room. HI was quite maudlin for a while but the others did their best to lift his spirits.

This year, Harry was not 'summoned' by the Headmaster to attend the feast. Clearly, the man could actually learn his lesson. However, he couldn't sleep either. So, he went for a walk down to look in on the feast.

And then Harry heard it.

§ Rip - tear - kill... §

It was the same voice, the same cold, murderous voice he had heard in dungeons.

He stumbled to a halt, clutching at the stone wall, listening with all his might, looking around, squinting up and down the dimly lit passageway.

§ _Sooo_ hungry - for so long... §

'What _is_ that?' he thought.

§ Kill - time to kill... §

The voice was growing fainter. Harry was sure it was moving closer - moving upward. A mixture of fear and excitement gripped him as he stared at the floor. Was it a phantom, to whom stone floors didn't matter?

He began to run, down the stairs. It was no good hoping to hear anything here, the babble of talk from the Halloween feast was echoing out of the Great Hall. Harry sprinted down stairs to the first floor.

Stopping suddenly he strained his ears. Distantly, from the floor below, and growing fainter still, he heard the voice: § - I smell blood - I SMELL BLOOD!§

His stomach lurched. 'It's going to kill someone!' he thought, taking the next flight of steps three at a time, trying to listen over his own pounding footsteps. Harry hurtled around the whole of the second floor, not stopping until he turned a corner into the last, deserted passage.

Something was shining on the wall ahead. He approached slowly, squinting through the darkness. Foot-high words had been daubed on the wall between two windows, shimmering in the light cast by the flaming torches. THE CHAMBER OF SECRETS HAS BEEN OPENED. ENEMIES OF THE HEIR BEWARE.

As he edged nearer, he almost slipped - there was a large puddle of water on the floor; eyes fixed on a dark shadow beneath the torches. He realised what it was at once, and leapt backward with a splash. Mrs. Norris, the caretaker's cat, was hanging by her tail from the torch bracket. She was stiff as a board, her eyes wide and staring.

For a few seconds, he didn't move. He knew he should run and get help; but, it was already too late for that.

A rumble told him that the feast had just ended. From either end of the corridor where he stood came the sound of hundreds of feet climbing the stairs, and the loud, happy talk of well-fed people; next moment, students were entering the passage from both ends.

The chatter, bustle and noise died suddenly as the people in front spotted the hanging cat. Harry stood alone, in the middle of the corridor, as silence fell among the mass of students pressing forward to see the grisly sight.

Then someone shouted through the quiet. "Enemies of the Heir, beware! You'll be next, Mudbloods!"

It was Draco Malfoy. He had pushed to the front of the crowd, his cold eyes alive, his usually bloodless face flushed, as he grinned at the sight of the hanging, immobile cat.

"So, this was _you_, Malfoy?" snarled Harry.

"What?" stammered the boy; the flush rapidly fading, again. "No! - I..."

"What's going on here? What's going on?" Attracted no doubt by Malfoy's shout, Argus Filch came shouldering his way through the crowd. Then he saw Mrs. Norris and fell back, clutching his face in horror.

"My cat! My cat! What's happened to Mrs. Norris?" he shrieked.

And his popping eyes fell on Harry.

"You!" he screeched. "You! You've murdered my cat! You've killed her! I'll kill you! I'll..."

"Argus!"

Dumbledore had arrived on the scene, followed by a number of other Professors. In seconds, he had swept past Harry and detached Mrs. Norris from the torch bracket.

"Come with me, Argus," he said to Filch. "You, too, Mister Potter."

Lockhart stepped forward eagerly.

"My office is nearest, Headmaster - just upstairs - please feel free..."

"Thank you, Gilderoy," said Dumbledore.

The silent crowd parted to let them pass. Lockhart, looking excited and important, hurried after Dumbledore; so did Professors McGonagall and Snape. Harry was joined by Daphne while his other friends hung back.

As they entered Lockhart's darkened office there was a flurry of movement across the walls; Harry saw several of the Lockharts in the pictures dodging out of sight, their hair in rollers. The real Lockhart lit the candles on his desk and stood back. Dumbledore lay Mrs. Norris on the polished surface and began to examine her. Harry and Daphne exchanged tense looks and sank into chairs outside the pool of candlelight, watching.

The tip of Dumbledore's long, crooked nose was barely an inch from Mrs. Norris's fur. He was looking at her closely through his half-moon spectacles, his long fingers gently prodding and poking. Professor McGonagall was bent almost as close, her eyes narrowed. Snape loomed behind them, half in shadow, wearing a most peculiar expression: It was as though he was trying hard not to smile. And Lockhart was hovering around all of them, making suggestions.

"It was definitely a curse that killed her - probably the Transmogrifian Torture - I've seen it used many times, so unlucky I wasn't there, I know the very counter curse that would have saved her."

Lockhart's comments were punctuated by Filch's dry, racking sobs.

He was slumped in a chair by the desk, unable to look at Mrs. Norris, his face in his hands. Much as he detested Filch, Harry couldn't help feeling a bit sorry for him; though, not nearly as sorry as he felt for himself if Dumbledore believed Filch. He would be expelled for sure.

Dumbledore was now muttering strange words under his breath and tapping Mrs. Norris with his wand but nothing happened. She continued to look as though she had been recently stuffed.

"... I remember something very similar happening in Ouagadogou," said Lockhart. "A series of attacks - the full story's in my autobiography - I was able to provide the townsfolk with various amulets, which cleared the matter up at once."

The photographs of Lockhart on the walls were all nodding in agreement as he talked. One of them had forgotten to remove his hair net.

At last Dumbledore straightened up. "She's not dead, Argus," he said softly.

Lockhart stopped abruptly in the middle of counting the number of murders he had prevented.

"Not dead?" choked Filch, looking through his fingers at Mrs. Norris. "But why's she all - all stiff and frozen?"

"She has been Petrified," said Dumbledore "But how, I cannot say..."

"Ask him!" shrieked Filch, turning his blotched and tearstained face to Harry.

"No second year could have done this," said Dumbledore firmly. "It would take Dark Magic of the most advanced..."

"He did it; he did it!" Filch spat, his pouchy face purpling. "You saw what he wrote on the wall!"

"I never _touched_ your cat!" Harry said loudly, uncomfortably aware of everyone looking at him, including all the Lockharts on the walls.

"Rubbish!" snarled Filch.

"If I might speak, Headmaster," said Snape from the shadows, and Harry's sense of foreboding increased; he was sure nothing Snape had to say was going to do him any good.

"Potter may have simply been in the wrong place at the wrong time," he said, a slight sneer curling his mouth as though he doubted it. "But we do have a set of suspicious circumstances here. Why was he in the upstairs corridor at all? Why wasn't he at the Halloween feast?"

Harry snarled back, "You already know the answer to that."

"But why go up to that corridor?" asked Snape, his black eyes glittering in the candlelight.

The others looked at Harry.

"Because - because... " Harry said, his heart thumping very fast; something told him it would sound very far-fetched if he told them he had been led there by a bodiless voice no one but he could hear, "...because I wasn't tired enough but wanted to go to bed."

"Without any supper?" said Snape, a triumphant smile flickering across his gaunt face.

"I've had more than enough experience of going to bed hungry, Professor," replied Harry with a growl.

"I suggest, Headmaster, that Potter is not being entirely truthful," said Snape. "It might be a good idea if he were deprived of certain privileges until he is ready to tell us the whole story. I personally feel he should be taken off the Ravenclaw Quidditch team until he is ready to be honest."

"Really, Professor Snape," said Harry sharply, "Do you feel I hit the cat over the head with a broomstick? You have no evidence I've done anything wrong. I just happened upon the scene before everyone else."

Dumbledore was giving Harry a searching look. His twinkling light-blue gaze made Harry feel as though he were being X-rayed.

Feeling the attempted Legilimency probe, Harry growled at the old man, "Get out of my bloody head!"

"Innocent until proven guilty, Severus," said Dumbledore firmly, ignoring the accusation.

Snape looked furious. So did Filch.

"My cat has been petrified!" he shrieked, his eyes popping. "I want to see some punishment!"

"We will be able to cure her, Argus," said Dumbledore patiently. "Professor Sprout recently managed to procure some Mandrakes. As soon as they have reached their full size, I will have a potion made that will revive Missus Norris."

"I'll make it," Lockhart butted in. "I must have done it a hundred times. I could whip up a Mandrake Restorative Draught in my sleep."

"Excuse me," said Snape icily. "But I believe _I_ am the Potions Master at this school."

There was a very awkward pause.

"You may go," Dumbledore said to Harry and Daphne.

"Well, _thank_ you ever so much, Headmaster," said Harry not a little sarcastically. "And, all of you, please be aware I do not take kindly to slander and libel levelled towards me."

They went, and were met outside the door by the other five. When they were far enough away from Lockhart's office, they turned into an empty classroom and closed the door quietly behind them.

Harry squinted at his friends' darkened faces. "Do you think I should have told them about that voice I've been hearing?"

"No," said Daphne, without hesitation. "Hearing voices no one else can hear isn't a good sign, even in the wizarding world."

Something in Daphne's voice made Harry ask, "You do believe me, don't you?"

"'Of course I do," she said. "But, you must admit, it's quite odd."

"I know it's odd," said Harry. "The whole thing's just plain weird. What was that writing on the wall about? The chamber has been opened - What's that supposed to mean?"

"You know, it rings a sort of bell," said Tracey slowly. "I think someone told me a story about a secret chamber at Hogwarts once."

A clock chimed somewhere.

"Midnight," said Harry. "We'd better get to bed before Snape comes along and tries to frame me for something else."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

For a few days, the school could talk of little else but the attack on Mrs. Norris. Filch kept it fresh in everyone's minds by pacing the spot where she had been attacked, as though he thought the attacker might come back. Harry had seen him scrubbing the message on the wall with Missus Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover, but to no effect; the words still gleamed as brightly as ever on the stone.

When Filch wasn't guarding the scene of the crime, he was skulking red-eyed through the corridors, lunging out at unsuspecting students and trying to put them in detention for things like 'breathing loudly' and 'looking happy.'

"Stuff like this isn't supposed to happen at Hogwarts," said Susan. "They'll catch the maniac who did it and have him out of here in no time."

"I just hope he's got time to petrify Filch before he or she is expelled," said Neville before he raised his hand in mock surrender from the glares he got. "I'm only joking..."

The attack had also had an effect on Hermione. It was quite usual for Hermione to spend a lot of time reading, but she was now doing almost nothing else. Nor could Harry or the others get much response from her when they asked what she was up to, and not until the following Wednesday did they find out.

Harry had been held back in Potions, where Snape had made him stay behind to scrape tubeworms off the desks. After a hurried late lunch, he went upstairs to meet the others in the library, and saw Justin Finch-Fletchley, the Hufflepuff boy from Herbology, coming toward him. Harry had just opened his mouth to say hello when Justin caught sight of him, turned abruptly, and sped off in the opposite direction.

Harry found the others at the back of the library at their usual table. Some were working on their History of Magic homework. Professor Binns had asked for a three foot long composition on 'The Medieval Assembly of European Wizards.'

"I'm still three inches short," said Neville, sighing and letting go of his parchment. "And Hermione's done four feet seven inches and her writing's tiny."

"Where is she?" asked Harry, working on his own homework.

"Somewhere over there," said Neville, pointing along the shelves. "Looking for another book. I think she's trying to read the whole library before Christmas."

Harry told the others about Justin Finch-Fletchley running away from him.

"I don't know why you care. I thought he was a bit of an idiot," said Tracey, writing away. "All that junk about Lockhart being so great..."

Hermione emerged from between the bookshelves. She looked irritable and at last seemed ready to talk to them.

"All the copies of '_Hogwarts: A History_' have been taken out," she said, sitting down next to Neville and Tracey. "And there's a two-week waiting list. I wish I hadn't left my copy at home, but I couldn't fit it in my trunk with all the Lockhart books."

"Where's the copy I loaned you?" said Harry.

"I - left it in my trunk upstairs" she groaned. "I wanted to read up on the legend of the Chamber of Secrets but didn't think to grab it and bring it down."

"Oh!" said Harry, before searching his memories for that particular book. "Let's see - Last believed opened in May 1943 by Fourth Year Gryffindor, Rubeus Hagrid, who was then expelled a month later. A Ravenclaw Fifth Year, Myrtle Malone, was killed, yet no mark or spell residue - other than spells she had cast herself - was found on her body during the autopsy.

"The story goes that Slytherin had built on his own behalf a hidden chamber in the castle, of which the other founders knew nothing. Slytherin, according to the legend, sealed the Chamber of Secrets so that none would be able to open it until his own true heir arrived at the school. The heir alone would be able to unseal the Chamber of Secrets, unleash the horror within, and use it to purge the school of all who were unworthy to study magic.

"The horror is believed to be some sort of monster, which the Heir of Slytherin alone can control. If that's the case, then it's likely to be a snake of some sort. After all, the snake was his animal of choice as he was a parseltongue - Hang on, that doesn't make sense."

"What doesn't make sense?" ask Hermione, first in.

"Hagrid was expelled from Hogwarts because he was believed to have opened the Chamber of Secrets. The one who reported it to be Hagrid was Tom Marvolo Riddle..." both Neville and Daphne gasped. "... a, then, Sixth Year Slytherin. Riddle was awarded an award for Special Services to the School, which then led to him becoming Head Boy the next year. Riddle said Hagrid did it because Hagrid had as a pet an acromantula.

"However, _if_ it was supposedly the acromantula that killed the girl, then it would have left a spider bite on her body somewhere. Miss Malone's body was, apparently, unmarked."

"So, Hagrid was falsely accused and expelled," said Susan, affronted. She, being the niece of the Head of the DMLE, was always upset if there was a hint of someone being falsely held accountable of a crime.

"So," said Hermione, "We know Hagrid didn't open the Chamber. Perhaps we should contact the DMLE about that."

"And how do we prove it?" asked Harry. "It's only our logical suspicions that Hagrid is innocent, after all."

"And it'll take a lot more than _that_ to get the case reheard," sighed Susan.

"We need more evidence," said Tracey. "But, we're now talking about a case that occurred coming up on fifty years ago."

"We need to find the Chamber," said Daphne. "Then we'll discover just what the horror supposedly is."

"Slytherin's true heir..." muttered Harry. "It sounds like they mean the Heir Apparent."

"Why the Heir Apparent?" asked Neville.

"Because just about every Ancient House, I guess, would have some of Slytherin's blood in their history," replied Harry. "We - meaning you, Daphne and I - already know that the Gaunts claimed direct descendance from Slytherin. And, I happen to know that the Blacks, Longbottoms and Potters have at least one Gaunt in their bloodline.

"That means, if the Gaunts _were_ direct descendants, then I'm probably a very much removed descendant of Slytherin; as is, Neville, Sirius and Malfoy; that I know of. It will probably be the same for most, if not all, of the Ancient Houses and many of the lesser Houses."

"I'm a Slytherin?" near-squeaked Neville.

Harry grinned and said, "No, Neville; just a minor heir. A Gaunt female married into Potter House about five hundred years ago. The granddaughter of that union married into Longbottom House about fifty years later.

"I daresay the same applies to Gryffindor, Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff with the blood diffusion among the Houses similar to Slytherin. Think about how many magicals there were in the isles back in the Tenth and Eleventh Centuries and you'll have an idea as to why I believe I'm right."

"So," said Hermione. "Getting back on track, you believe the true heir would be the Heir Apparent."

"Yes," replied Harry. "However, just as I'm Heir Presumptive for House Black - yet I'm a Potter - it doesn't necessarily mean it will be the one who is closest through bloodlines to the original line of Slytherin."

"So, there's no way to figure it out by referring to the Book of Bloodlines in the Heritage Office in the Ministry," sighed Hannah.

"No," mused Harry. "But, it may be a good place to start."

"We'll contact Father," said Daphne. "And ask him if he can narrow it down a little for us."

"Ummm - there might be a little problem with that," said Harry.

"Oh? Why?" asked Daphne.

"That depends on the answer to this question: Does the Book of Bloodlines recognise such bloodlines if a magical person is born from a long line of squibs?" he asked.

"I - don't know," said Daphne, realising Harry was referring to Hermione, for instance. The others, except Hermione, all shrugged or indicated they didn't know either.

"But, still," said Hannah. "It's a place to start."

"I think the Ministry doesn't recognise an heir if the line has squibbed for more than three generations," said Susan.

"But does _magic_ recognise an heir, even if the Ministry doesn't?" asked Hermione.

No one had an answer for that. But, Harry and Daphne both hoped they'd find out at Christmas.

Letters written, the group had no time to attack other homework before afternoon classes. So, they organised to meet up in the Room to go over homework together.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After class and in their Room, the Seven quickly started working on homework. Harry, Susan and Hannah had Astronomy that night, and all three wanted to get an evening nap in, so they only had until dinner to get done what they needed to get done.

"I've been thinking," said Hermione.

"Oh, that's dangerous sign," said Neville with a smirk to take the sting out of the words.

Hermione just poked her tongue out at him and turned to Harry. "You said the girl's name who was killed the last time the Chamber of Secrets was opened was Myrtle Malone, right?"

"Right," said Harry, wondering where she was going with this.

"Well, there's a girl's bathroom right next to where Mrs Norris was petrified. That's where all the water came from," she said.

"Alright..." he said.

"Well, the reason there's often water in that corridor is because there's a ghost who often haunts that particular girl's bathroom," she continued. "She's constantly doing things such as blocking up the toilets and hand basins and turning all the taps on."

"Sorry, I'm still not see - Wait," said Tracey. "That's Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, isn't it?"

"Yes. Moaning _Myrtle_," replied Hermione. "The ghost of a young witch wearing near-modern Ravenclaw robes."

"Well, Susan, Hannah and I have Astronomy tonight and an early nap to look forward to," said Harry. "Do you others think you can go and have a bit of a chat with her?"

"Errr - umm..." blushed Neville.

"It's okay, Neville," said Hermione. "You can stay outside and keep an eye out."

He sheepishly nodded trying to get his embarrassment under control.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next afternoon, Harry met with Tracey and Daphne at lunch to go over a prank idea against the blonde woodpecker. As Lockhart was fond of using the Teeth Flashing Charm, and probably the Hair Coiffuring Charm, that was in the book of which Harry owl-ordered two copies early last year, he decided it might be a good idea to turn the tables on the man.

"So, which ones do you think we need to use?" asked an eager Tracey.

"I'm going with the Teeth Glint Charm, Eye Sparkle Charm and Hair Volume Charm," said Harry. "Might I suggest one of you girls go with the same teeth charm and the Windblown Charm?"

"That's me," said Daphne. "I think my blonde hair will look better in the limited light in the classroom."

"And, I'm going for the Moist Lips Charm, Hair Volume Charm and Blush Charm," said Tracey with a grin.

"Right," said Harry, taking mental note of all that. "Now, I'm going to go tell the Devil Twins what I'm up to. I have a feeling they haven't thought of doing something like this, so they might want to do the same thing when next they have a class with him." With a grin he was up and across to see the Weasley twins.

"Gred, Forge," he said as he found a spare spot opposite them to sit.

"Harrikins!" they said in stereo.

"What can Gred and Forge..."

"... pranksters extraordinaire..."

"... do for the Great Harry Potter..."

"... slayer of ladies hearts?"

"Oh-kay!" said Harry, not knowing what that last bit meant. "Daphne, Tracey and I are going to prank Flophart in DADA straight after lunch. We're going to be using a lot of those little beauty and photogenic cantrips out of my copy of that book I bought the two of you."

Both twins grinned and said in gleeful stereo, "Harrikins!"

"I just thought you'd like to know in case you were about to unleash a Weasley prank on the woodpecker," said Harry

The twins looked at each other and, coming to a decision, turned back to Harry. "We have one ready to go..."

"... but not until tomorrow night."

"Excellent," said Harry. "Now we just need to keep the pressure up."

He was just getting up when they both reached out and pulled him down again.

He looked at them questioningly.

"Are you aware that the student body believes..."

"... you to be the one who petrified Mrs Norris?"

Harry snorted in disgust and said, "Snape tried to claim I did it, too. Dumbledore shot him down fast, though."

"So what..."

"... really happened?"

"I will not attend a feast that celebrates my parent's murder," replied Harry firmly. "I would have liked to have been asleep in my bed. However, I couldn't sleep. So, I went for a walk.

"I was heading down to peer into the Great Hall to see if I could get an idea as to how long it had to go when I heard - noises - coming from within the walls. I tracked those noises to that second floor corridor and found exactly what you saw; water all over the floor, and Mrs Norris hanging petrified from the torch sconce."

"Thank you..."

"... for telling us..."

"Harrikins," they solemnly said together.

Harry returned to his group and let them know about the twins' prank of Flophart the next night. Their pranks that afternoon, were on.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Leaving the DADA class later that afternoon, Harry and the two girls walked quickly down the corridor and turned the corner before they suddenly stopped and all three burst out laughing. They were laughing so hard Daphne and Harry had hold of one another while Tracey was leaning with her back against the wall.

By the time they got themselves back under control, all three ended up with tears running down their cheeks. Others walking down that corridor gave them a very wide berth.

During class, every time Lockhart looked in their direction, all three would strike a heroic pose in their seats and flash the man a winning smile.

In response, Lockhart quickly lost his own smile. There was no way he could not recognise the Charms the threesome were using. After all, he had the same book and had made very good use of it.

His biggest problem was he could not accuse them of using the Charms and Cantrips out of the book, as it would also be an admission he had made use of the same book.

With a chuckle, Harry asked, "Do you - do you want me to cancel the Spells?"

"Merlin, no!" said Tracey. "I want you to _reapply_ them."

"Huh?" he asked, confused.

"Oh, well said, Potter," smirked Daphne. "You have _such_ a way with words."

Harry blew her a raspberry and looked back at Tracey to continue.

"I want to go into the Great Hall looking like this for dinner," she explained.

Surprised, Harry said, "Oh! That's a good idea."

Daphne shook he heard and said, "An even _better_ idea is if our whole group of friends do it _together_."

That set both Harry and Tracey off again. Daphne let them go for a while before she said, "Come on. We need to go up to the Room to meet up with the others. I'll let them know what I hope they'll agree to do."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

That evening, after most every other student entered the Great Hall for their evening meal, the Seven entered through the double doors. Eyes were twinkling, teeth were glinting, hair was perfectly coiffed, full bodied or falling in soft curls, robes immaculate and billowing, faces lightly blushed. In all, they looked ready to step in front of a professional photographer's lens.

The Hall went silent as soon as they entered and all eyes followed their walk up towards the top end of the tables. Some were openly grinning, while others were watching with concern, if not a little fear.

Young Mister Creevey, after having already been warned once, stood up with his camera and snapped a group photo of them as they were walking up between tables. Harry just glared at the boy and he immediately sat down again.

Plastering the clearly fake smiles on their faces again, the Seven looked around and managed to find they would be sitting at the Gryffindor table that night.

"Ah! We shall grace the Lions with our _wonderful_ presence tonight," said Tracey a little loudly. "I'm sure they'll be _overjoyed_ to have us at their table." Room was quickly made for them while they all struck a pose.

Neville, clearly enough to be heard across the Hall, said in his best Lockhart impression, "Ah! There was no need to do that, of course. After all, I could have _easily_ placed an Expansion Charm on the table and benches; for _I_ - am Neville Longbottom." Again, they all struck a pose.

That earn quite a few open snickers, sniggers and laughter.

When Harry and the others were seated, he turned to look at the head table and could see Dumbledore was clearly amused; Professor McGonagall had her head down again with her face in her hands, chuckling away; and Professor Flitwick was openly laughing. Other Professors were in similar states of mirth; and even Snape was trying to hide a smile. Lockhart however had his fake smile firmly plastered on his face, but there was no happiness in his eyes.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	37. Psychotic Bludger

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Seven – Psychotic Bludger**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Five days later, on the Sunday, they had their second attack. This time, young Colin Creevey was petrified. Harry and Daphne were getting in their, possibly, last snowless day to have a walk along the edge of the Black Lake.

Entering, he found out from the others about the attack. He also found out he was supposedly the attacker.

Entering the Great Hall for dinner that night the Seven made their way to the Hufflepuff table. As they were sitting, quite a few of the 'Puffs quickly got up and moved away.

"What on _earth_ is wrong with those people?" Harry asked Susan.

"They think _you're_ the one who petrified the young First Year Gryff' and Filch's cat," said Susan.

"Why the bloody hell would they think I'd _do_ such a thing?" he asked, frowning, and loud enough for those around him to hear.

"They think _you're_ the Heir of Slytherin," said Hannah, also louder than normal.

"_Me?_" asked Harry. "I'm a _Potter_, for Merlin's sake! I doubt very much anyone could be so utterly _stupid_ as to believe such nonsense!

"Well, maybe some muggleborn or -raised _might_ think that. But, anyone who has even the _slightest_ clue of recent history knows that's just plain _daft_ thinking."

"It's also stupid because I was with Harry for the whole time walking along the edge of the Black Lake," said Daphne, also in a clear voice. "He couldn't have been in both places at once."

As they'd planned, quite a few people around them began to whisper to their friends and other seat mates. It didn't take long for the whispering to pass to the other tables and for the whole Hall to start thinking about what Harry had said.

After dinner the Seven made their way up to the seventh floor and Hermione called for the Room.

Inside, they all took seats when Daphne said, "As I was with Harry, and we didn't know what happened, can someone fill us in?"

Neville sighed and said, "Young Colin was found down on the second floor, not far from where Mrs Norris was found. Apparently, he had his camera with him and appeared to be in the process of taking a photograph of someone, or something."

"That's why people are somewhat convinced it's you, Harry," said Hermione. "Everyone knows he wants to keep taking photographs of you. And, after the way you glared at him that night when we pranked Lockhart in the Great Hall, it just adds to that."

Harry fell against the backrest of the couch he was on and sighed. "My problem, of course, is that I cannot prove a negative."

"Pardon?" asked Susan.

"I cannot prove I'm not the one doing it other than - wait a minute," he said suddenly sitting forward.

"I can prove it," he said. "I can give a Wizard's Oath it wasn't me."

"No!" snapped Daphne, horrified. "You will not do such a thing!"

A little hurt, Harry asked, "Why ever not?"

Clearly upset, Daphne replied, "A Wizard's Oath is not something to take so lightly. It has long term implications that can cause you to lose your magic, that's why."

Sighing, Harry said, "Alright. No Wizard's Oath. But there has to be something I can do."

"Research time!" said Hermione.

"A pensieve would work," mused Harry. "But I can only show a limited number of people at a time. It would take forever to show everyone. And I'm worried Dumbledore will try and take it from me again."

"What do you mean Dumbledore will try and take it from you again?" asked Susan, frowning.

Harry was trying to figure out how to respond when Daphne replied instead. "Dumbledore had the Potter family pensieve. He claimed Harry's father loaned it to him and had hold of it right up until just after Christmas Day."

Clearly not happy, Susan said, "A family pensieve is not something _anyone_ would ever loan out. They're priceless. And it doesn't take that much to break one."

"Well, Dumbledore had the Potter family pensieve and claimed my father loaned it to him before he died," said Harry. "The trouble is, we cannot prove that didn't happen."

"Well, I hope he returned it in good condition," huffed Susan.

"Errr - he didn't return it," said Harry. "The goblins went in and got it because he _wouldn't_ return it. He then tried to claim my father would be very disappointed in me because I sent the goblins in after it."

Susan snorted and said, "He should think himself lucky Aunt Amelia and Gran haven't found out; or, Uncle Cygnus and Aunt Isabel for that matter." Looking up, she asked, "They don't know, do they?"

Harry shook his head and said, "No. It was something I resolved by myself; with the goblins' help, of course. He no longer has any property that rightfully belongs to me, specifically, or House Potter, generally. At least, there's no evidence or knowledge of anything else he might have."

"But you're not sure?" she asked.

"No," he replied. "But, after the goblins went after him for what they had recorded as him having, I sent the Potter house elves in. They knew of a few books he'd taken from Potter Manor and recovered them from Dumbledore's possession."

"Anyway," said Hermione. "Research?"

Nodding, Harry rose and walked over to one of the bookcases. He thought hard about wanting to find books on magic relating to memory and saw a half dozen books appear on the shelves of the case. Picking them up he carried them back to the occasional table between the seats and placed them on top.

Picking up the first one he started speed reading.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry finally found a memory charm that could possibly help. However, it was considered quite an advanced charm. Though, when he read through it, he felt he was capable.

The charm required the caster to have advanced Occlumency skills in order to have clear memories. That was something not necessarily needed to use a pensieve. The memory also had to be entirely accurate almost to the smallest detail. And the witch or wizard casting the charm had to have sufficient power to maintain the charm, as they had to continue to pump magic into the cast for the entire duration of the memory.

That was three strict requirements that Harry felt he met. And, even if he didn't have sufficient magical power within himself, he felt he could use the trick of drawing in power to compensate.

It was another two days before he finally managed to successfully perform the charm up in the Come and Go Room.

The Charm was called the Show Memory Charm, the incantation was '_Memoriae Meae_' and the wand movement started with the tip of the wand at the temple of the caster and flicking the wand forward with a swirl continuing into a thrust out to arm's reach. The width of the twirl indicated how wide an area the memory would then display in the air above and away from the caster in the direction of the point of the wand.

Then the caster had to hold their wand steady while the memory played and continue to pump magic through the wand for the duration of the playing of the memory.

Harry started on a short memory covering a small area and slowly enlarged the area of air covered, and length of the time the memory took to play. He was playing the memory of Christmas Day when Astoria came in to wake him up.

"This is just like watching a 'three-dee' movie without the glasses," said Hermione from where she was watching on the couch once Harry felt he mastered the charm.

"A what?" asked Neville, thoroughly confused.

"Muggle entertainment medium," said Hermione. "They used to be called 'moving picture shows'. Now they've shortened that name to just 'movie'. At the moment, movies are just in 'two-dee' - meaning two dimensional - like a wizarding photograph. However, the muggle world is now trying to make the movies 'three-dee' - meaning three dimensional."

"In other words," said Harry. "Just like what I'm doing here."

"With sound, too," said Tracey, a little awed.

"A _harpy_?" exclaimed Hannah, when the memory played through. "You called your future sister-in-law a _harpy_?"

"Hey! I had just woken up and this brunette-haired screeching beast attacked me in my own bed!" he replied. "What would you have done?"

Neville was grinning. "The look on your face when she used your stomach muscles to launch herself back off the bed..." And was chuckling away.

"Well, at least we know it works for you," said Daphne.

"And it leaves me feeling quite pooped," said Harry.

"The book says you're not supposed to attempt this until you've gained sufficient power. In other words, as an adult," said Hermione.

Harry looked to see Hermione reading the book and quietly laughed.

When she looked up, he said, "We can 'pull' magic in now, remember? They didn't know they could do that, back then. And I have both an eidetic memory _and_ advanced Occlumency skills. Clearly, I'm capable."

Hermione blushed and said, "I keep forgetting the _rules_ of magic seem to be 'guides only' when it comes to you."

Harry laughed much louder and said, "I like that. It's a good way of putting it."

"But why have this spell when pensieves are available and require very little power?" asked Hannah.

"This spell was what they used before pensieves were developed," said Hermione from where she was reading.

"Plus, you can't send a memory strand to someone else and have them use the spell like you can with a pensieve," said Harry.

"However," said Daphne. "Do you really want to use this spell now?"

"Huh?" asked Harry.

"_There_'s my Harry," smirked Daphne. "Loquacious, as per usual."

"Hey!" he whined.

Laughing a little she lightly brushed her fingers down his cheek before she said, "What I meant was, the charm is quite advanced. Dumbledore will probably recognise it and know it takes someone of considerable power to cast it. It will demonstrate to him just how powerful you actually are."

"But I'm not actually all that powerful," said Harry. "It's just a neat little trick I learned and have passed on to you lot."

"Oh, _no_, my future husband," she said. "You really _are_ powerful. At least, more powerful than the average witch or wizard. You're just able to enhance that power by pulling more power into yourself."

"Plus, there's all that extra training you do - we do," said Hermione. "It was _you_ who reminded us magic is like a muscle and needs to be exercised."

"Nevertheless," said Daphne, getting things back on track. "It's still a very advanced charm. If Harry uses it for something as mediocre as slapping down rumours he's the Heir of Slytherin, it gives away knowledge he might not want known."

Harry sighed and said, "She's right. And the only reason I tried the Show Memory Charm is because it was our only choice."

"So, you're just going to have to put up with it, then," said Neville.

"I guess," replied Harry.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A week later was the Ravenclaw versus Hufflepuff Quidditch game; and Harry was, of course, starting seeker. The sky was threatening rain. With his new Ravenclaw Quidditch robes with the large yellow number seven on his lower back and the name Potter spelled out just above it, he met with the rest of the team in the locker rooms.

"Alright, Harry," said Martin. "You know what you need to do. Just try not to show just how good you actually are. I want you to save that for when we play Slytherin. However, Diggory is almost as good as you are on a broom and he rides a Cleansweep Seven, so don't think you'll just out pace him."

"So, be a good seeker; just not a great seeker?" he asked.

"Pretty much," replied Martin. Turning to the rest of the team he said, "Beaters, keep the bludgers off the chasers; but, keep an eye on Potter. If he gets injured because you two weren't doing your jobs I'll have your guts for garters!

"Chasers, watch for the bludgers and make sure you're being covered by the beaters. I want full pitch presses if the opposing chasers get the quaffle. In tight on the inside, always. No letting the opposition's chasers get a free run down the pitch. Press them the whole way. Remember; it only takes a little mistake on their part for us to get the quaffle back. And, if they make that mistake early, it won't give them a chance to set up a defence in front of the goal rings.

"Keeps, watch for the fake. We know Blenkinsop, at least, favours the right hand hoop but often fakes to the left; and I think that new girl, Bobbins, might do the same without the fake.

"Alright, then. Are we ready?" And put his hand out palm down in the huddle. The others all put their hands in on top, and Harry's went last.

"Rrrrrrrrrravenclaw!" they all called out as they threw their hands into the air.

Harry was so excited to actually play he almost charged straight out onto the field. Martin held him back and said, "You'll be called last, Harry. Listen to the announcer call your name and fly out, alright?"

Harry nodded back and drifted to the back of the formation.

As the names of the players were called, they flew out. The Keeper, first; then the three chasers with Martin in the middle; then the two beaters. Finally, the announcer called, "And, finally - Ravenclaw's new raven-haired, green-eyed seeker - making his debut - Ravenclaw's Raven - _Harry Potter_!"

While he was being announced, Harry ran as far back into the tent as he could and still maintain a straight line exit out the opening and mounted his broom. As soon as his name started to be called he accelerated the broom as fast as he could and shot out of the opening like a rocket.

He immediately angled the broom upwards at about thirty degrees and performed three quick barrel rolls before pointing the broom straight up. He climbed a further fifty feet and braked.

Just before he stopped he hopped off the broom and splayed himself out like a starfish facing up while holding the broom in his right hand. He then allowed himself to fall for about twenty feet before pulling his hands in and letting his flapping robes slow his legs down enough for him to then be heading straight down head first.

As his feet arced up and over his head, he pulled the handle of the broom hard up against his chest and jammed his feet back into the stirrups performing a slow complete twist as he fell.

Looking down he could see all the other players were on the ground around a box in the middle of the field.

'Oops!' he thought. 'No one told me I had to go there first.'

He pulled out of his dive at the last moment and, as soon as he was flying parallel to the ground, popped up and threw the broom into a heel skid.

He came to a stop only a foot away from Martin with a big grin on his face.

Martin, who first looked like he was going to jump aside in fear, stood his ground and, when Harry stepped off his broom, rolled his eyes and said, "_What_ did I tell you?"

"What, _that?_" asked Harry pointing back to where he just came from. "No one told me I had to meet with everyone else down here, first. That was just warming up a bit."

"If you're _quite_ done, Mister Potter," said Madam Hooch, their referee for the day. "I'd like to get the game underway."

"Sorry, Ma'am," said Harry, a _little_ chagrined.

"Alright," she said in her no nonsense voice. "Keep it clean and within the rules. If I see a beater's bat anywhere near another player, I'll _personally_ use it to paddle your behind - repeatedly." Looking straight at Harry she said, "As for you, Mister Potter; if I see you pull another manoeuvre like that inverted starfish you just pulled, you won't need to find the snitch. I'll be jamming the thing so far up your - behind you'll feel it's wings tickling your throat. Have I make myself perfectly clear?"

Harry gulped and replied, Yes, Ma'am!"

"Good," she nodded before turning to all the players. "Hufflepuff won the toss, so which goals do you want to defend, Mister Blenkinsop?"

"Those ones, thank you, Ma'am," replied the boy indicating the end into the wind.

"Very well," nodded Hooch. "Everyone up in the air. The game starts on my whistle."

Harry shot up into the air as quick as he could. Those gold cat's eyes on Madam Hooch do weird things to your insides where she glares at you with them.

With a roar from the crowd to speed them upward, the fourteen players rose toward the leaden sky. Harry flew higher than any of them, squinting around for the snitch.

"Ready for a battle, Potter?" yelled Diggory, shooting underneath him as though to show off the speed of his broom.

Harry had no time to reply. At that very moment, a heavy black bludger came pelting toward him; he avoided it so narrowly that he felt it ruffle his hair as it passed.

"Close one, Harry!" said Paul McCutcheon, the other beater, streaking past him with his club in his hand, ready to knock the bludger back toward a Hufflepuff. Harry saw Paul give the bludger a powerful whack in the direction of Cedric Diggory, but then it changed direction in midair and shot straight for Harry again.

Harry dropped quickly to avoid it, and Paul managed to hit it hard toward Diggory again. Once again, the bludger swerved like a boomerang and shot at Harry's head.

Harry put on a burst of speed and zoomed toward the other end of the pitch. He could hear the bludger whistling along behind him. What was going on? Bludgers never concentrated on one player like this; it was their job to try and unseat as many people as possible.

Roger Davies was waiting for the bludger at the other end. Harry ducked as Roger swung at the bludger with all his might; the bludger was knocked off course.

"Gotcha!" yelled Roger happily, but he was wrong; as though it was magnetically attracted to Harry, the bludger pelted after him once more and Harry was forced to fly off at full speed.

It had started to rain; Harry felt heavy drops fall onto his face, splattering into his eyes. He didn't have a clue what was going on in the rest of the game until he heard Lee Jordan, who was commentating, say, "Hufflepuff lead, sixty points to zero!"

The two Ravenclaw beaters, trying to protect Harry, were clearly not able to do their proper jobs. Meanwhile, the mad bludger was doing all it could to knock Harry out of the air. Roger and Paul were now flying so close to him on either side that Harry could see nothing at all except their flailing arms and had no chance to look for the snitch, let alone catch it.

"Someone's - tampered - with this - bludger..." Paul grunted, swinging his bat with all his might at it as it launched a new attack on Harry.

"We need a time out," said Roger, trying to signal to Martin and stop the bludger breaking Harry's nose at the same time.

Martin had obviously got the message. Madam Hooch's whistle rang out and Harry, Paul and Roger dived for the ground, still trying to avoid the mad bludger.

"What's going on?" called Martin as the Ravenclaw team huddled together. "We're being flattened. Paul, Roger, where were you when that bludger stopped Cho scoring?"

"We were twenty feet above her, stopping the other bludger from _murdering_ Harry, Simon," said Roger angrily. "Someone's fixed it. It won't leave Harry alone. It hasn't gone for anyone else all game. Someone's done something to it."

"But the bludgers have been locked in Madam Hooch's office since our last practice, and there was nothing wrong with them then..." said Martin, anxiously.

Madam Hooch was walking toward them.

"Listen," said Harry as she came nearer and nearer, "With you two flying around me all the time the only way I'm going to catch the snitch is if it flies up my sleeve. Go back to the rest of the team and let me deal with the rogue one."

"Don't be thick," said Paul. "It'll take your head off!"

Martin was looking from Harry to the two beaters.

"Simon, this is insane," said Eddie Carmichael angrily from the other side of the huddle. "You can't let Harry deal with that thing on his own. Let's ask for an inquiry."

"If we stop now, we'll have to forfeit the match!" said Harry. "And we're not losing to Hufflepuff just because of a crazy bludger! Come on, Simon, tell them to leave me alone!"

Madam Hooch had joined them.

"Ready to resume play?" she asked Martin.

Martin looked at the determined look on Harry's face.

"All right," he said. "Paul, Roger, you heard Harry. Leave him alone and let him deal with the bludger on his own."

The rain was falling more heavily now. On Madam Hooch's whistle, Harry kicked hard into the air and heard the telltale whoosh of the bludger behind him. Higher and higher he climbed. He looped and swooped, spiralled, zigzagged, and rolled. Slightly dizzy, he nevertheless kept his eyes wide open, rain was getting in his eyes and ran up his nostrils as he hung upside down, avoiding another fierce dive from the bludger.

He could hear laughter from the crowd. He knew he must look very stupid, but the rogue bludger was heavy and couldn't change direction as quickly as he could. He began a kind of roller coaster ride around the edges of the stadium, squinting through the silver sheets of rain to the Ravenclaw goal posts, where a Hufflepuff chaser was trying to get past Carmichael.

A whistling in Harry's ear told him the bludger had just missed him again. He turned right over and sped in the opposite direction. "Training for the ballet, Potter?" yelled the chaser as Harry was forced to do a stupid kind of twirl in midair to dodge the cursed thing. He fled with the bludger trailing a few feet behind him; and then, glaring back at the bludger in hatred, he saw it - the Golden Snitch. It was hovering inches above the chaser's left ear and she, busy laughing at Harry, hadn't seen it.

For an agonizing moment, Harry hung in midair, not daring to speed toward her in case she looked up and saw the snitch.

WHAM.

He had stayed still a second too long. The bludger had hit him at last, smashed into his arm just above his elbow. He felt his arm break. Dimly, dazed by the searing pain in his arm, he slid sideways on his rain-drenched broom, one knee still crooked over it, his right arm dangling useless at his side.

The bludger came pelting back for a second attack, this time zooming at his face. Harry swerved out of the way, one idea firmly lodged in his numb brain: get to the snitch.

Through a haze of rain and pain he dived for the shimmering girl's face below him, and saw her eyes widen with fear. She thought Harry was attacking her.

"What the..." she gasped, careening out of Harry's way.

Harry took his remaining hand off his broom and made a wild snatch; he felt his fingers close on the cold snitch but was now only gripping the broom with his legs, and there was a yell from the crowd below as he headed straight for the ground, trying hard not to pass out.

With a splattering thud he hit the mud and rolled off his broom. His arm was hanging at a very strange angle. Riddled with pain, he heard, as though from a distance, a good deal of whistling and shouting. He focused on the snitch clutched in his good hand and held it aloft.

"Aha," he said vaguely. "We win!" And fainted.

He came around, rain falling on his face, still lying on the field, with someone leaning over him. He saw a glitter of teeth.

"Oh, no, not you," he moaned.

"Doesn't know what he's saying," said Lockhart loudly to the anxious crowd of Ravenclaw players pressing around them. "Not to worry, Harry. I'm about to fix your arm."

"No!" said Harry. "You're not a bloody trained healer!"

He tried to sit up, but the pain was terrible.

"Lie back, Harry," said Lockhart soothingly. "It's a simple charm I've used countless times..."

"No, I said!" said Harry through clenched teeth. "Get Madam Pomfrey!"

"She's coming, Professor," said a muddy Martin, who couldn't help grinning even though his Seeker was injured. "Great capture, Harry, really spectacular."

Through the thicket of legs around him, Harry spotted Roger Davies and Paul McCutcheon, wrestling the rogue bludger into a box. It was still putting up a terrific fight.

"Stand back," said Lockhart, who was rolling up his jade-green sleeves.

"No! Don't!" said Harry weakly, but Lockhart was twirling his wand and a second later had directed it straight at Harry's arm.

Harry just managed to roll out of the way. "Arrgh!" he screamed, as he rolled over the injured arm.

"_Naff off_, you moron!" he screamed out. "Point that naffing wand at me again and I'll _shove it up your arse!_"

"Ah," said Lockhart. "Yes. Well, it appears the pain he's feeling is making him a little nonsensical. Best to leave it to Madam Pomfrey then. So, Harry, just toddle up to the hospital wing. Ah, it appears your friends are now here. Would you escort him? Madam Pomfrey will be able to - errr - tidy him up a bit."

As Harry was assisted to a standing position by a clearly puffed Neville pulling on his left arm, he felt a bit wobbly on his feet. Taking a deep breath he looked down at his right side. What he saw nearly made him pass out again.

It looked like he had two elbows. He tried to move his fingers but very little happened and the pain almost made him pass out again.

Neville quickly looped Harry's left arm over his shoulders and took hold of him by a fistful of belt on his right hip.

Harry could see Daphne was in tears. He said to her, "I'm okay, love. It's just a broken arm."

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\""/

In the hospital wing, Madam Pomfrey wasn't at all pleased. She immediately shoved a pain relief potion into his left hand and told him to drink it.

"You should have come straight to me!" she raged. "I can mend simple fractures in a second. But, when they're compounded like this..."

"You'll be able to fix it without removing it and regrowing it, won't you?" asked Harry, desperately. "That way bloody hurts!"

"I'll be able to, certainly, but it will still be painful," said Madam Pomfrey grimly, throwing Harry a pair of pyjamas. "You'll have to stay the night."

The girls waited outside the curtain drawn around Harry's bed while Neville helped him out of his Quidditch robes and into his pyjamas. It took a while to ease the broken arm out of the robes and into the sleeve of the pyjamas.

"Just getting him out of his wet Quidditch robes was almost enough to make him vomit," Neville called through the curtain as he eased the sleeve up his injured arm.

As he swung himself onto the bed, his arm lying crookedly across his chest. Daphne and Madam Pomfrey came around the curtain. Madam Pomfrey was holding a large bottle of something labelled Skele-Gro.

Harry was thinking about what he remembered of this potion from his stay at Saint Mungo's when Madam Pomfrey hit him with a Stunning Hex. He woke a few minutes later to find his second elbow, and Daphne, were gone. But it looked like Neville had toughed it out, even if he was looking a little green.

"You're in for a rough night," she the medi-witch, pouring out a steaming beakerful and handing it to him, making sure he grasped it with his left hand. "Resetting and knitting bones is a nasty business."

So was taking the Skele-Gro. It burned Harry's mouth and throat as it went down, making him cough and splutter. Still tut-tutting about dangerous sports and inept teachers, Madam Pomfrey retreated, leaving Neville to help him gulp down some water. The partitions were removed and his friends all gathered around. Daphne was looking quite pale.

"That was some catch you made. That poor 'Puff chaser's face - she looked ready to kill," said Tracey, an avid Quidditch fan.

"I want to know how, whoever did, fixed that bludger," said Hermione darkly.

"We can add that to the list of questions we'll ask Madam Hooch," said Harry, sinking back onto his pillows. He was starting to feel quite sleepy.

The door of the hospital wing burst open at that moment. Filthy and soaking wet, the rest of the Ravenclaw team had arrived to see Harry.

"Unbelievable flying, Harry," said Roger. "I've just seen Diggory trying not to yell too much at Miss Bobbin. Something about having the snitch on top of her head and not noticing. She didn't seem too happy.

"Oh!" he said, holding Harry's broom out. "I brought your broom with me. I thought to give it to one of your friends to look after for you, instead of leaving it in the broom shed. None of us leave our brooms there, either."

Hermione took it and said, "I'll look after it, Harry. It'll be safe in the Gryffindor Second Year girl's dorm."

The team had brought cakes, sweets, and bottles of pumpkin juice. They gathered around Harry's bed with his friends and were just getting started on what promised to be a good party when Madam Pomfrey came storming over, shouting, "This boy needs rest. He has a compound fracture to repair and I don't want to see it misaligned! Out! OUT!"

And Harry was left alone, with nothing to distract him from the stabbing pains in his arm.

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-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	38. Duelled Senseless

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Eight – Duelled Senseless**

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Hours later, Harry woke quite suddenly in the pitch blackness and gave a small yelp of pain. His upper arm now felt full of large splinters. For a second, he thought that was what had woken him. Then, with a thrill of horror, he realized that someone was sponging his forehead in the dark.

"Get off!" he said loudly. And then, "Dobby!"

The house-elf's goggling tennis ball eyes were peering at Harry through the darkness. A single tear was running down his long, pointed nose.

"Harry Potter came back to school," he whispered miserably. "Dobby _warned_ Harry Potter. Ah, sir; why didn't you heed Dobby? Why didn't Harry Potter go back home when he couldn't get through the barrier?"

Harry heaved himself up on his pillows and pushed Dobby's sponge away.

"What're you doing here?" he asked. "And how did you know I almost missed the train?"

Dobby's lip trembled and Harry was seized by a sudden suspicion.

"It was you!" he said slowly. "You stopped the barrier from letting us through!"

"Indeed yes, sir," said Dobby, nodding his head vigorously, ears flapping. "Dobby hid and watched for Harry Potter and sealed the gateway against Harry Potter Sir, and Dobby had to immediately iron his hands afterward." He showed Harry ten long, bandaged fingers. "But, Dobby didn't care, sir, for he thought Harry Potter was safe, and never did Dobby _dream_ that Harry Potter would get through the barrier another way!"

He was rocking backward and forward, shaking his ugly head. "Dobby was so shocked when he heard Harry Potter was back at Hogwarts, he let his master's dinner burn! Such a flogging Dobby never had, sir."

Harry slumped back onto his pillows. "You'd better get lost before my arm is repaired, Dobby, or I might strangle you."

Dobby smiled weakly.

"Dobby is used to death threats, sir. Dobby gets them five times a day at home."

He blew his nose on a corner of the filthy pillowcase he wore, looking so pathetic that Harry felt his anger ebb away in spite of himself.

"Why do you wear that thing, Dobby?" he asked curiously.

"This, sir?" said Dobby, plucking at the pillowcase. "'Tis a mark of the house elf's enslavement, sir. Dobby can only be freed if his masters present him with clothes, sir. The family is careful not to pass Dobby even a sock; for then he would be free to leave their house forever."

Dobby mopped his bulging eyes and said suddenly, "Harry Potter must go home! Dobby thought his bludger would be enough to make..."

"_Your_ bludger?" growled Harry, anger rising once more. "What do you mean, _your_ bludger? You made that bludger try and kill me?"

"Not _kill_ you, sir, _never_ kill you!" said Dobby, shocked. "Dobby wants to save Harry Potter's life! Better sent home, grievously injured, than remain here, sir! Dobby only wanted Harry Potter hurt enough to be _sent home_!"

"Oh, is _that_ all?" asked Harry, angrily. "I don't suppose you're going to tell me _why_ you wanted me sent home in pieces?"

"Ah, if Harry Potter only knew!" Dobby groaned, more tears dripping onto his ragged pillowcase. "If he knew what he means to us, to the lowly, the enslaved, we dregs of the magical world!

"Dobby remembers how it was when He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named was at the height of his powers, sir! We house-elves were treated like vermin! Of course, Dobby is _still_ treated like that, sir," he admitted, drying his face on the pillowcase. "But mostly, sir, life has improved for my kind since you triumphed over He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.

"Harry Potter survived, and the Dark Lord's power was broken, and it was a new dawn, sir. And Harry Potter shone like a beacon of hope for those of us who thought the dark days would never end, sir. And now, at Hogwarts, terrible things are to happen; are, perhaps, happening already; and Dobby cannot let Harry Potter stay here now that history is to repeat itself; now that the Chamber of Secrets is open once more..."

Dobby froze, horror-struck, then grabbed Harry's water jug from his bedside table and cracked it over his own head, toppling out of sight. A second later, he crawled back onto the bed, cross-eyed, muttering, "Bad Dobby, very bad Dobby..."

"So there _is_ a Chamber of Secrets?" Harry whispered. "Tell me, Dobby!"

He seized the elf's bony wrist as Dobby's hand inched toward the water jug. "But I'm not muggleborn. How can I be in danger from the Chamber?"

"Ah, sir, ask no more, ask no more of poor Dobby," stammered the elf, his eyes huge in the dark. "Dark deeds are planned in this place, but Harry Potter must not be here when they happen. Go home, Harry Potter, go home. Harry Potter must not meddle in this, sir; 'tis too dangerous..."

"Who is it, Dobby?" Harry said, keeping a firm hold on Dobby's wrist to stop him from hitting himself with the water jug again. "Who's opened it? Who opened it last time?"

"Dobby can't, sir; Dobby can't. Dobby mustn't tell!" squealed the elf. "Go home, Harry Potter; go home!"

"I'm not going anywhere!" said Harry fiercely. "One of my best friends is muggleborn. She'll be first in line if the Chamber really _has_ been opened."

"Harry Potter risks his own life for his friends!" moaned Dobby in a kind of miserable ecstasy. "So noble! So valiant! But he must save himself, he must. Harry Potter must not..."

There were footsteps coming down the corridor outside.

"Dobby must go!" breathed the elf, terrified. There was a loud crack, and Harry's fist was suddenly clenched on thin air. He slumped back into bed, his eyes on the dark doorway to the hospital wing as the footsteps drew nearer.

The doors opened and Madam Pomfrey came in. "Mister Potter?" she asked. "I heard voices in here. Who were you talking to?"

"A deranged, lunatic house elf," said Harry.

With a sigh, Madam Pomfrey disappeared into her office and came back with a potion. "Here; drink this. It's a short term Dreamless Sleep Potion that should keep you asleep until morning. How's the arm feel?"

"Like I've got large splinters digging into my arm," said Harry. "I've come to know the feeling quite well now. I remember it from my stay in Saint Mungo's."

"Yes. Well, drink up," she said. "That'll take care of the pain."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, Harry woke with his right arm feeling stiff but healed. He sat up quickly to try and move it around a bit.

Madam Pomfrey, from her desk, noticed the movement and came over. She was carrying a tray loaded with a decent breakfast.

"Everything is now fine, Mister Potter," she said, placing the tray on a hospital bed table and wheeling it over to him. "As soon as you've eaten your breakfast you may get up and get dressed."

Harry belted down as much of the breakfast as he could. He was eager to get out of there and find Daphne and his other friends.

He had just finished getting dressed when Daphne came hurrying in through the double doors out to the corridor, followed by the others.

"Oh, thank Merlin!" said Daphne, coming up to him and enveloping him in a huge hug. "We came by before breakfast but Madam Pomfrey wouldn't let us stay. So, we've just come from breakfasting in the Great Hall."

"That's alright, Daphne," he said, soothingly. "You need to eat. I'm just sorry I didn't wake up while you were here. Then, I may have been able to join you for breakfast in the Great Hall."

"Don't be silly," she scolded him. "You had a serious break in your arm. It needed time to be mended and healed."

"So, what shall we do?" he asked, instead of pushing the issue.

"Homework?" asked Hermione.

Harry groaned and said, "You've a one track mind, girl. But I doubt I'll be able to do much. While the bone in my arm might be repaired and mostly healed, it's still a little stiff."

"I'll help," she said.

Smiling, Harry said, "I'll just do what I usually do. I'll write it in my head and wait until I can transcribe it onto parchment."

"But I can help with research," she said.

"That you can," he replied, smiling. "And I'll appreciate the help."

The Seven left the infirmary with a frozen Colin Creevey laying on one of the beds hidden by another of the movable screens. They didn't even realise he was there.

_‗_  
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\""/

In the Room Harry sat the others down and began to tell them about the visit he had from the house elf named Dobby.

"Dobby," muttered Tracey, before she suddenly looked up at Daphne. "Dobby. Don't the Malfoys have a house elf named Dobby?"

"Yes; yes, they do," said Daphne, also remembering. "They treat him _appallingly_."

"Tthat was the house elf I met," said Harry. "He said he gets, as you put it, appallingly treated by his family. And he's always punishing himself."

"That sounds like the Malfoys, alright," spat Tracey.

Nodding, Harry continued with his tale of his late night early morning visitor, and what he said. He finished with telling them about Madam Pomfrey unknowingly scaring him off and he having to take a shortened Dreamless Sleep Potion.

"So," said Hermione. "Dobby was the one who visited you on the night of your birthday at Greengrass Estate; he was the one who jiggered with the portal at Kings Cross; and he was the one who mucked about with the charms on the bludger. I see what you mean by him trying to kill you to save your life."

"But we now know who is responsible for what's been happening - Malfoy," said Susan.

"We know 'who', we _suspect_ 'what', but we don't know 'how'," said Harry. "Besides, Malfoy senior wasn't born until about a decade _after_ the Chamber was opened last time. He must have information on how to open it from Riddle."

"Do you think it's Malfoy?" asked Hermione. "I mean junior, not senior. We could use Polyjuice Potion to take the place of his two bullyboys and lead him to answering questions."

"The ferret?" asked Tracey, with a little laugh. "No. If he really knew, he wouldn't be able to stop himself from bragging about it."

Nodding, Daphne said, "Tracey's right. We'd all know by now, if it was him. At least, those of us in Slytherin. Malfoy couldn't keep a secret that big if his _life_ depended on it."

Seeing the dejected look on Hermione's face she said, "But, Polyjuice Potion was a good idea if Malfoy actually _could_ keep a secret. He'd have told Crabbe and Goyle, for sure. We need that sort of thinking to solve this."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

November faded into December and the Seven were beginning to look forward to going home for Christmas.

However, the week before they were due to leave, a notice appeared in the Entrance Hall. A duelling club was starting up. The first 'meet' was to be held that evening at 8.00pm.

"They're starting a Duelling Club!" said Seamus Finnegan, a Second Year Gryffindor. "First meeting tonight! I wouldn't mind duelling lessons - they might come in handy one of these days."

"What, you reckon Slytherin's monster can duel?" asked Neville back. But he, too, read the sign with interest.

"It could be useful," he said to the others as they went into dinner. "Shall we go?"

The others were all for it. So, at eight o'clock that evening, they hurried back to the Great Hall.

The long dining tables had vanished and a golden stage had appeared along one wall, lit by thousands of candles floating overhead. The ceiling was velvety black once more and most of the school seemed to be packed beneath it, all carrying their wands and looking excited.

"I wonder who'll be teaching us?" asked Hermione, as they edged into the chattering crowd. "Harry said Flitwick was a duelling champion when he was young. Maybe it'll be him."

"As long as it's not..." began Harry, before he ended on a groan.

Gilderoy Lockhart was walking onto the stage, resplendent in robes of deep plum and accompanied by none other than Snape, wearing his usual black.

Lockhart waved an arm for silence and called, "Gather round, gather round! Can everyone see me? Can you all hear me? Excellent!

"Now, Professor Dumbledore has granted me permission to start this little duelling club, to train you all in case you ever need to defend yourselves as I, myself, have done on countless occasions. For full details, see my published works.

"Let me introduce my assistant, Professor Snape," said Lockhart, flashing a wide smile. "He tells me he knows a tiny little bit about duelling, himself, and has sportingly agreed to help me with a short demonstration before we begin. Now, I don't want any of you youngsters to worry. You'll still have your Potions Master when I'm through with him, never fear!"

"Wouldn't it be good if they finished each other off?" Ron Weasley muttered to someone from behind Harry and the others. Harry just snorted and rolled his eyes.

Snape's upper lip was curling.

Lockhart and Snape turned to face each other and bowed. At least, Lockhart did, with much twirling of his hands; whereas Snape jerked his head irritably. Then they raised their wands like swords in front of them.

"As you see, we are holding our wands in the accepted combative position," Lockhart told the silent crowd. "On the count of three, we will cast our first spells. Neither of us will be aiming to kill, of course."

"I wouldn't bet on that," Harry murmured, watching Snape baring his teeth.

"One - two - three!"

Both of them swung their wands above their heads and pointed them at their opponent. Snape cried, "_Expelliarmus!_"

There was a dazzling flash of scarlet light and Lockhart was blasted off his feet. He flew backward off the stage, smashed into the wall, and slid down it to sprawl on the floor.

Malfoy and some of the other Slytherins cheered. Hermione was dancing on tiptoes. "Do you think he's all right?" she squealed through her fingers. "He may be a liar but he's still a person."

"Who cares?" said Harry and Neville together. Lockhart was getting unsteadily to his feet. His hat had fallen off and his wavy hair was standing on end.

"Well, there you have it!" he said, tottering back onto the platform.

"That was a Disarming Charm. As you see, I've lost my wand - ah, thank you, Miss Brown. Yes, an excellent idea to show them that, Professor Snape. But, if you don't mind my saying, to stop you, it would have been only too easy. However, I felt it would be instructive to let them see..."

Snape was looking murderous.

Possibly, Lockhart had noticed, because he said, "Enough demonstrating! I'm going to come among you now and put you all into pairs. Professor Snape, if you'd like to help me..."

They moved through the crowd, matching up partners. Lockhart teamed Neville with Justin Finch-Fletchley, but Snape reached Harry

"Time to split up the dream team, I think," he sneered. "The rest of you, go find other partners. Potter..."

Harry moved automatically toward Daphne.

"I don't think so," said Snape, smiling coldly. "Mr. Malfoy, come over here. Let's see what you make of the famous Harry Potter. And you, Miss Granger, you can partner Miss Bulstrode."

Daphne looked a little murderous at Snape but went off to find a partner of her own.

Malfoy strutted over, smirking. Behind him walked Bulstrode. Hermione gave her a weak smile that she did not return.

"Face your partners!" called Lockhart, back on the platform. "And bow!"

Harry and Malfoy barely inclined their heads, not taking their eyes off each other.

"Wands at the ready!" shouted Lockhart. "When I count to three, cast your charms to disarm your opponents - _Only_ to disarm them - We don't want any accidents. One - two - three!"

Harry swung his wand high, but Malfoy had already started on "two".

His spell would have hit Harry if he hadn't quickly sidestepped. He stumbled, but didn't twist anything. Wasting no more time, Harry pointed his wand straight at Malfoy and shouted, "_Rictusempra!_"

A jet of silver light hit Malfoy in the stomach and he doubled up, wheezing.

"I said disarm _only_!" Lockhart shouted in alarm over the heads of the battling crowd, as Malfoy sank to his knees. Harry had hit him with a Tickling Charm, and he could barely move for laughing.

Harry hung back, with a vague feeling it would be unsporting to bewitch Malfoy while he was on the floor, but this was a mistake. Gasping for breath, Malfoy pointed his wand at Harry's knees, and choked, "_Tarantallegra!_" and the next second Harry's legs began to jerk around out of his control in a kind of quickstep. He wasn't prepared for such an underhanded tactic.

"_Stop! Stop!_" screamed Lockhart, but Snape took charge.

"_Finite Incantatem!_" he shouted.

Harry's feet stopped dancing, Malfoy stopped laughing, and they were able to look up.

A haze of greenish smoke was hovering over the scene. Both Neville and Justin were lying on the floor, panting; and Tracey was holding up an ashen-faced Seamus, apologizing for whatever. But, Hermione and Millicent Bulstrode were still moving. Millicent had Hermione in a headlock and Hermione was whimpering in pain. Both their wands lay forgotten on the floor.

Harry leapt forward and pulled Millicent off. It was difficult; she was a lot bigger than he was.

"Dear, dear," said Lockhart, skittering through the crowd, looking at the aftermath of the duels. "Up you go, MacMillan - Careful there, Miss Fawcett - Pinch it hard, it'll stop bleeding in a second, Boot.

"I think I'd better teach you how to block unfriendly spells," said Lockhart, standing flustered in the midst of the hall. He glanced at Snape, whose black eyes glinted, and looked quickly away. "Let's have a volunteer pair; Weasley and Finnigan, how about you..."

"A bad idea, Professor Lockhart," said Snape, gliding over like a large and malevolent bat. "Weasley causes devastation with the simplest spells. We'll be sending what's left of Finnegan up to the hospital wing in a matchbox."

Weasley's pink face went pinker.

"How about Malfoy and Potter?" asked Snape with a twisted smile.

"Excellent idea!" said Lockhart, gesturing Harry and Malfoy into the middle of the hall, as the crowd backed away to give them room.

"Now, Harry," said Lockhart. "When Draco points his wand at you, you do this."

He raised his own wand, attempted a complicated sort of wiggling action, and dropped it. Snape smirked as Lockhart quickly picked it up, saying, "Whoops! My wand is a little overexcited."

Snape moved closer to Malfoy, bent down, and whispered something in his ear. Malfoy smirked, too. Harry looked up, feigning nervousness at Lockhart, and said, "Professor, could you show me that blocking thing again?"

"Scared?" muttered Malfoy, so that Lockhart couldn't hear him.

"You wish," said Harry out of the corner of his mouth.

Lockhart cuffed Harry merrily on the shoulder. "Just do what I did, Harry!"

"What, drop my wand?"

But Lockhart wasn't listening. "Three - two - one - go!" he shouted.

Malfoy raised his wand quickly and bellowed, "_Serpensortia!_"

The end of his wand exploded. Harry watched, aghast, as a long black snake shot out of it, fell heavily onto the floor between them, and raised itself, ready to strike. There were screams as the crowd backed swiftly away, clearing the floor.

"Don't move, Potter," said Snape lazily, clearly enjoying the sight of Harry standing motionless, eye to eye with the angry snake. "I'll get rid of it."

"Allow me!" shouted Lockhart. He brandished his wand at the snake and there was a loud bang. The snake, instead of vanishing, flew ten feet into the air and fell back to the floor with a loud smack. Enraged and hissing furiously, it slithered straight toward Justin Finch-Fletchley and raised itself again, fangs exposed, poised to strike.

Harry wasn't sure what made him do it. He wasn't even aware of deciding to do it. All he knew was that his legs were carrying him forward as though he was on casters and that he had shouted stupidly at the snake, §_Leave him alone!_§ And miraculously - inexplicably - the snake slumped to the floor, docile as a thick, black garden hose, its eyes now on Harry.

Harry felt the fear drain out of him. He knew the snake wouldn't attack anyone now, though how he knew it, he couldn't have explained.

He looked up at Justin and said, "Back away, Mister Finch-Fletchley. No sudden moves, now."

Justin backed away until he was well out of striking range. "That should be far enough, thank you," said Harry.

"What do you think you're playing at?" shouted the other boy. And, before Harry could say anything, Justin had turned and stormed out of the hall.

"Professor Snape, since you seem to have taught Mister Malfoy that spell, perhaps you should have the honour of returning it to his home."

Snape stepped forward, waved his wand, and the snake vanished in a small puff of black smoke.

Snape, too, was looking at Harry in an unexpected way. It was a shrewd and calculating look, and Harry didn't like it. He was also dimly aware of an ominous muttering from the collected students.

"That was an _incredibly_ dangerous spell you just cast, Mister Malfoy," glared Harry at Malfoy. "That was one of the most deadliest snakes in existence - a Black Mamba. If it had bitten Mister Finch-Fletchley I dare say you and Lockhart would be facing charges of committing severe bodily harm, if not _manslaughter_ right now!

"What the bloody hell did you _think_ you were doing?" he snarled.

Malfoy stared back with a look of fright and fear on his face.

Turning to the shocked face of Lockhart, he said, "As for you, _Professor Flophart_; your clear incompetence damn near saw Mister Finch-Fletchley _killed_! Perhaps you should consider your career at an end!"

Harry stormed off the platform and, with the group following him, stormed out of the Great Hall. As they went through the doors, the people on either side drew away as though they were frightened of catching something. Harry didn't have a clue what was going on; and none of his friends explained anything until they had dragged him all the way up to the Come and Go Room.

Daphne pushed Harry into an armchair and said, "You're a Parselmouth. Why didn't you tell us?"

"I didn't know," said Harry.

"This changes things," said Tracey.

"Why?" said Harry. "I bet loads of people here can do it."

"Oh, no they can't," said Daphne. "It's not a very common gift. Harry, this is bad."

"What's bad?" said Harry, starting to feel quite angry. "What's wrong with everyone? Listen, if I hadn't told that snake not to attack Finch-Fletchley..."

"Oh, that's what you said to it?" asked Daphne.

"What do you mean? You were there. You heard me..."

"I heard you speaking Parseltongue," said Hannah. "You could have been saying anything. No wonder Justin panicked. You sounded like you were egging the snake on or something. It was creepy, you know..."

Harry gaped at her.

"I didn't realize," said Harry. "How can I speak a language without knowing I can speak it?"

Neville shook his head. Both he and Hermione were looking as though someone had died. Harry couldn't see what was so terrible.

"Do you want to tell me what's wrong with stopping...?" he started to say, before realising. "Oh. Slytherin was a parselmouth, wasn't he?"

"Yes," said Hermione, speaking at last in a hushed voice. "That's why the symbol of Slytherin House is a serpent."

Harry sighed.

"Exactly," said Daphne. "And now the whole school's going to think you're his great-great-great-great-grandson or something..."

"I probably am," said Harry.

"You'll find it hard to prove you're not _the_ heir now," said Hermione. "He lived about a thousand years ago. For all we know, you could be."

Harry lay awake for hours that night. Through a gap in the curtains around his four-poster he watched snow starting to drift past the tower window and wondered - Could he be the true descendant of Salazaar Slytherin? He didn't know much about his father's family, after all.

Quietly, Harry tried to say something in Parseltongue. The words wouldn't come. It seemed he had to be face-to-face with a snake to do it.

The next few days before leaving for Christmas break were going to be difficult.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next day, between classes, Harry was fretting about what had nearly happened to Finch-Fletchley; so told the group he was going to go and track the boy down to try and explain what had happened in the duelling class. Daphne kissed him on the cheek and wished him well, but didn't think it would make a difference.

Harry tromped down the stairs almost to the ground floor and turned along another corridor, which was particularly dark. The torches had been extinguished by a strong, icy draft blowing through a loose windowpane. He was halfway down the passage when he tripped headlong over something lying on the floor. He turned to squint at what he'd tripped over, and felt as though his stomach had dissolved.

Justin Finch-Fletchley was lying on the floor - rigid and cold - a look of shock frozen on his face. His eyes were staring blankly at the ceiling. Next to him was another figure, the strangest sight Harry had ever seen.

It was the Gryffindor ghost, Nearly Headless Nick, no longer pearly-white and transparent, but black and smoky, floating immobile and horizontal, six inches off the floor. His head was half off and his face wore an expression of shock identical to Finch-Fletchley's.

Harry got to his feet, his breathing fast and shallow, his heart doing a kind of drumroll against his ribs. He looked wildly up and down the deserted corridor. The only sounds were the muffled voices of teachers from the classes on either side.

He could run, and no one would ever know he had been there. But he couldn't just leave them lying here. He had to get help. But, would anyone believe he hadn't had anything to do with this?

As he stood there, a door right next to him opened with a bang. Peeves the Poltergeist came shooting out.

"Why, it's potty wee Potter!" cackled Peeves, knocking Harry in the head as he bounced past him. "What's Potter up to? Why's Potter lurking..."

Peeves stopped, halfway through a midair somersault. Upside down, he spotted Justin and Nearly Headless Nick. He flipped the right way up, filled his lungs and, before Harry could stop him, screamed, "ATTACK! ATTACK! ANOTHER ATTACK! NO MORTAL OR GHOST IS SAFE! RUN FOR YOUR LIVES! ATTAAAACK!"

Crash - crash - crash! Door after door flew open along the corridor and people flooded out. For several long minutes, there was a scene of such confusion that Finch-Fletchley was in danger of being squashed and people kept standing in Nearly Headless Nick. Harry found himself pinned against the wall as the professors shouted for quiet.

Professor McGonagall came running, followed by her own class, one of whom had black-and-white-striped hair. She used her wand to set off a loud bang, which restored silence, and ordered everyone back into their classes. No sooner had the scene cleared somewhat that Ernie the Hufflepuff arrived, panting, on the scene.

"Caught in the act!" Ernie yelled, his face stark white, pointing his finger dramatically at Harry.

"That will do, MacMillan!" said Professor McGonagall sharply.

Peeves was bobbing overhead, now grinning wickedly, surveying the scene. Peeves always loved chaos. As McGonagall bent over Finch-Fletchley and Nearly Headless Nick, examining them, Peeves broke into song. "Oh, Potter, you rotter; oh, what have you done? You're killing off' students, you think it's good fun..."

"That's enough, Peeves!" barked the Professor. And Peeves zoomed away backward, with his tongue out at Harry.

Finch-Fletchley was carried up to the infirmary by Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra of the Astronomy department. But, nobody seemed to know what to do for Nearly Headless Nick.

In the end, Professor McGonagall conjured a large fan out of thin air, which she gave to Ernie with instructions to waft Nearly Headless Nick up the stairs. This Ernie did, fanning Nick along like a silent black hovercraft. This left Harry and Professor McGonagall alone together.

"This way, Potter," she said.

"Professor," said Harry at once, "I swear I didn't..."

"This is out of my hands, Potter," said the Professor, curtly.

They marched in silence around a corner and Harry found himself in the corridor leading to the entrance to the Headmaster's office.

"Lemon drop!" McGonagall said to the gargoyle.

They stepped off the stone staircase at the top, and Professor McGonagall rapped on the door. It opened silently and they entered. Professor McGonagall told Harry to wait and left him there, alone.

He also wasn't alone. Standing on a golden perch behind the door was Fawkes looking like a decrepit-looking bird that resembled a half-plucked turkey.

Harry stared at it and the bird looked balefully back, making a gagging noise. Harry thought it looked very ill. Its eyes were dull and, even as Harry watched, a couple more feathers fell out of its tail.

Harry was just thinking it looked as if it was approaching a burning day, when the phoenix burst into flames.

Harry nearly yelped in shock and backed away. The phoenix, meanwhile, had become a fireball. It gave one loud shriek and next second there was nothing but a smouldering pile of ash on the floor.

The office door opened. Dumbledore came in, looking very sombre.

"Albus," said Harry, gesturing towards Fawkes's perch. "Your phoenix…"

Dumbledore smiled. "About time, too," he said. "He's been looking dreadful for days. I've been telling him to get a move on."

Dumbledore walked around his desk and took seat. "I wanted to talk to you about what's been happening."

"Clearly," said Harry, taking seat on the chair opposite. "Otherwise I would not be here."

"I must ask you, Harry, whether there is anything you'd like to tell me," said Dumbledore gently. "Anything at all."

Harry thought of Malfoy shouting, "You'll be next, Mudbloods!" Then he thought of the disembodied voice he had heard twice. He thought, too, about what everyone was saying about him, and his annoyance that he was somehow connected with Salazaar Slytherin…

"Yes," said Harry. "I find myself becoming most upset about the continued ongoing bullying that seems to be running rampant through this school while the teaching staff does nothing about it. Calling people vile names like 'Mudblood' should be punished as bullying, Albus.

"Further - after it was made clear to you on numerous occasions I was never to be in the same room with you alone - your Deputy, Professor McGonagall, brought me up here and then abandoned me. These two points, of course, I will be raising with my godfather and magical guardians."

"Errr - yes," said Dumbledore. "I shall look into these… allegations. Thank you for your time, Harry."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	39. Lady Hermione

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Thirty Nine – Lady Hermione**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Finally, it was the 21st December and the Express was leaving for Kings Cross that day. Harry had spent the days following the 'incidents', as he'd come to call them, having the students giving him wide berths; and looking at him in fear; wherever he went.

It was only his friends, Luna Lovegood, and - funnily enough - the Weasley twins who refused to be scared of him.

When sitting at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast on the Saturday the next day, Luna came up and asked to sit next to him. Surprised, he invited her to sit.

"You're not _afraid_ of me, Luna?" he asked.

"No," she replied, in her light and airy voice. "Why would I be?"

"Because the rest of the student body seems to have it in their heads that I'm the Heir of Slytherin," he said.

"Oh, I have no doubt you're _an_ heir, Harry," she replied, filling her plate and making a face with the food as she went. "But, when you stop to think about it, most wizards and witches who have blood that goes back a few hundred years or more, are likely to also be heirs. Me included."

"That's what _we_ said," replied Harry, surprised. "I'm glad you, at least, realise that."

"I do believe, however," she said, still playing with her food. "That you're the true Heir of Gryffindor."

"Huh?" he asked. Daphne smacked his arm. He barely acknowledged it.

"_I'm_ the Heir of Gryffindor?" he asked the girl, in a little shock.

"Oh, yes," she said, preparing to attack her breakfast 'face'. "You'll see."

Harry, not knowing what to make of the odd girl's statement, decided to ignore it and let her eat.

Instead, he turned to Hermione and asked, "Have you managed to contact your parents, yet, and tell them about how we want to take you to Gringotts to have a special kind of test done?"

"Yes," she replied. "But, like me, they want to know what this test _is_. Are you going to tell me now?"

"No," he replied. "I don't want to 'jinx' it. Plus, there's only a slim chance it will work out like we think it may, and we don't want to get your hopes up in advance."

"And, it's not dangerous, right?" she asked.

"No, it's not dangerous," said Daphne breaking in. "You just need to trust we know what we're talking about. And, don't forget, it's Harry's responsibility as your Protector to keep you safe. That includes in this."

"But you're keeping a secret _about_ me, _from_ me," pouted Hermione.

"No," said Daphne. "Only a faint suspicion."

Looking more fully at Hermione, she begged, "_Please_ let us do this for you. Think of it as an early Christmas present and you're not allowed to open it until we're at Gringotts."

With a sigh, Hermione said, "Alright."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On Tuesday morning, the day after they arrived back in London, the Grangers floo'ed to Greengrass Estate.

They were joining the Greengrasses and Sirius for the trip to Gringotts, and then helping with the kids while they went Christmas shopping.

Walking in to Gringotts together, Harry asked to speak to Bloodfang, with whom they had an appointment. They were shown into Bloodfang's office a short time later.

"Lord Potter," said Bloodfang, after the initial greetings were exchanged. "Everything has been arranged." Looking at Hermione, he asked, "I take it this is the young witch of whom we're testing today?"

"Yes, Bloodfang, my friend," replied Harry. "Shall we?"

The goblin nodded and pulled a small dish from within his desk that looked partially full of ink, and placed it on his desk close to the edge nearest Harry and company. Then he withdrew a sheet of parchment and a specially shaped quill. And, finally, a goblin ritual knife.

Hermione took one look at the knife and gasped, as did her parents.

Harry placed his hand on Hermione's shoulder and said, "_Easy_, Hermione. It's not as bad as it looks. I did this a year and a half ago, just before my eleventh birthday."

Bloodfang looked up and grinned. He said, "Step forward, please, witch Granger; and I shall explain what you need to do."

Hermione took a deep breath and let it out slowly, calming down. Then stepped up to the edge of the desk.

Bloodfang nodded and said, "You need to take the ritual knife in your left hand and make a small cut in your right ring finger. Then let three drops of blood fall into the dish. I will then heal the cut on your finger."

Hermione nodded and, tentatively, picked up the knife in her left hand. Taking a steadying breath she nicked the pad on her right ring finger and held it over the dish. As soon as three drops of blood dripped into the ink she pulled her hand to the side, and Bloodfang reached out and took her hand.

After he passed his other hand over hers, he pulled it away to show the cut was now completely healed. And took the knife from her left hand.

Putting the knife away he then took the quill and used the very tip of it to stir the ink.

Suddenly, the quill looked like it wanted to leap out of his hand. Holding it tightly, he moved it over to the parchment, placing it vertically in the middle of the sheet. When he let go of it, it stood up straight for a moment before it started to quickly write on its own.

It took a little while before it finished what it was writing and stayed still on the page.

Bloodfang reached out and took the quill away, dropping it into the draw on his desk where he placed the knife.

He picked up the paper and began to read.

While the Grangers watched what was happening quite curiously, the Greengrasses, Harry and Sirius all held their breath in anticipation.

The goblin then read, "Miss Hermione Jean Granger, born 19th September 1979, first born child of Wendell Daniel Granger and Monica Emma Granger nee Woods."

Hesitating a moment, because he quite enjoyed having witches and wizards hanging off his every word, he said, "Heiress Apparent of the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger." Looking up and, grinning at Hermione, he said, "Congratulations, Lady Hermione."

"Yes!" said Sirius, pumping his fist into the air, while Harry and Daphne laughed. Cygnus and Isabel were also celebrating a little.

"What?" asked Wendell, quite stunned. Monica couldn't even say a word, her shock was that deep.

Harry reached over and hugged his, now gobsmacked, brown-haired friend. A hug joined in by, first Daphne and Astoria, then by Sirius and the Greengrasses.

While they were in the middle of their impromptu celebration, Bloodfang folded the sheet of parchment and dropped it through a slot on his desk before touching a rune.

"I - don't understand," said Wendell, a little dazed.

The hug broke apart and Cygnus said, "Our apologies, Wendell, Monica; but this is a very big thing for us in the wizarding world. A lost heir of a thought-to-be extinct bloodline has been found. And for he or she to be of a noble House..."

"I _still_ don't understand," said Wendell, shaking his head in confusion. "What does this mean?"

Turning and still chuckling, happy for his friend, Harry said to Bloodfang, "Perhaps you should do the honours, my friend?"

Just as Harry was asking the goblin to clarify matters, the box on his desk gave a little 'bong' sound. Bloodfang reached into it and drew out a small wooden ring box, moving it to sit on the desk just in front of himself. Harry recognised it as similar to the one that held his own Head of House ring.

As the adults calmed down, Bloodfang looked at Hermione and said, "The inheritance test does not lie, Lady Hermione. Through magical Primogenitor, you are the now recognised Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger."

Turning to Wendell and Monica, he said, "As you, sir, are known as a squib; that is, someone without sufficiently powerful enough magic; you cannot hold the Headship of a Magical House. However, ancestors of yours, the Dagworth-Grangers, were magical and were part of the House of Dagworth-Granger.

"One of your ancestors, Hector Dagworth-Granger, founded the Most Extraordinary Society of Potioneers. For that act the Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger was elevated to wizarding nobility, hence the Noble House status. And, once given, Noble status cannot be taken away unless a crime of significance by the Head of that House is committed; such as treason.

"And, since Noble status cannot be taken away, neither can the Ancient status, nor the recognised House status.

"The Dagworth-Granger House has been believed by the wizarding world to be extinct for almost two hundred years. With the, now, recognised Lady Hermione here. The Dagworth-Granger House will be removed from the roll of extinct Houses, and placed back on the roll of active Houses."

"And what of the House assets?" asked Cygnus.

"Alas," said Bloodfang. "The Ministry laid claim to those at the end of the first one hundred years of extinct status. I'm afraid there is no way to recover such assets without a very long and protracted legal fight with the Ministry. And I daresay very little will be recovered even then.

"However, the House vaults still exist because we goblins, through our own magics, recognised that House Dagworth-Granger was not, as believed, extinct."

"So, let me get this straight," said Wendell, pinching the bridge of his nose. "My daughter is now recognised as a Lady in the magical world. The title passed directly to her because she is both the recognised heir and I'm a - what you called - squib. She is now the Head of the Dagworth-Granger House, which is both an Ancient House and an ennobled one. She has vaults within this bank, although they are currently empty. And the Ministry claimed all assets belonging to the family nearly one hundred years ago, so they're now considered lost?"

"Yes on all five counts," replied Bloodfang.

"We need to sit down and discuss this," said Wendell, looking a little peaked. "As a family."

"If there is no further need for me, I have other work to do..." said Bloodfang.

"I think we need to go and sit down and discuss this among ourselves," said Cygnus. "How about in a lovely little cafe in the Alley?"

Getting affirmatives from everyone, they were about to leave when Bloodfang said, "Just one more thing before you go." He placed the box in front of Hermione and said to her, "Lady Hermione, please open the box. Inside is a ring. Please take it out and place it on your right ring finger."

Harry, Sirius and the Greengrasses froze and watched avidly.

Hermione opened the box and, taking the ring out, slid it on her right ring finger. As soon as it reached the webbing of her finger, it flashed once and resized to fit her finger perfectly.

Harry and the others sighed a breath of relief.

Bloodfang grinned and said, "And that was the final test. The ring has accepted Lady Hermione as the rightful Heir. Congratulations, again, Lady Hermione; Lady Dagworth-Granger."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After words of parting and standing, the party left the office and made their way back to the main doors of the bank. Cygnus then led them to a nice little cafe and ordered a private room.

Once ensconced therein, he quickly cast Privacy Charms and Warning Wards on the room.

As the last seated he turned to Harry and said, "Well, Harry. You initiated today's inheritance test, how about you explain it for the Grangers?"

"I'm happy to," replied Harry. Turning to the Grangers, he said, "After visiting Potter Manor over summer, we came to the conclusion Hermione _might_ have been a descendant of the Dagworth-Granger line. At the time, it was highly _unlikely_ but possible, given what we knew. That's when Cygnus used his position in the Ministry to research."

With a nod to Harry, Cygnus said, "So I went looking through the Book of Bloodlines in the Ministry. That Book showed that the Hector-Granger line didn't die out, per se. It, as we call it, _squibbed_ out. That is, children born of a magical family being born without recognisable magic. At that point, due to the bigotry in our world, they're seen as non-persons; and effectively cast out."

"And that's where my research comes in," said Isabel. "First, using the documents you gave me, Monica, I was able to track Wendell's family back a couple hundred years. Then I hit a dead end. While there was a record of a particular person dying, together with census results of their living in Essex, there was no record of birth. That person was Elphias Granger."

Cygnus continued, "And there was a matching record in the Book of Bloodline of a squib named Elphias _Dagworth_-Granger being born at Saint Mungo's. The likelihood of it being the same person was too strong to be discounted."

Then Harry took up the explanation again, "As Hermione's Protector, Cygnus and Isabel sent their findings to me. It was _my_ decision to hold off on saying anything about this until it could be confirmed by the goblin's Inheritance Test. I didn't want the possibility of this being true to affect Hermione, or you, until it could be confirmed one way or the other and we could all discuss it in depth."

"What does this mean for my family?" asked Wendell.

"In the muggle world? Absolutely nothing," said Cygnus. "It's only effect will be what you make of it.

"However, in the magical world, this is a _huge_ thing. Hermione is now no longer recognised as being a muggleborn; she's now considered a half-blood like Harry. As Head of the Dagworth-Granger House, irrespective of her position as a protectee of House Potter, she has a social status almost equal to us _in her own right_. And no one can argue against it. Her wearing the House ring stops that.

"Secondly, as Head of a Noble House, like Harry and me, she has a hereditary seat awaiting her on the Wizengamot; that's our form of parliament similar to your House of Lords." Looking directly at Hermione, he said, "Which reminds me, Hermione, you are now going to need a Regent to take your seat until you're of age."

"I pick you," she quickly said.

"Hold on, young lady," he quickly came back with. "While I thank you for the consideration you've given me. This is something you want to research and talk with your parents about, first. While Isabel and I are currently your magical guardians, my politics may not reflect your own. You want to pick someone who would be willing to vote on the Wizengamot along lines you believe you would vote in their place if you were of age to do so.

"You need to give yourself some time to think it through. And you need to listen to the counsel of your parents and others first. Alright?"

Hermione nodded and her parents breathed a sigh of relief. "Still, you _are_ my magical guardians, you _did_ cause this..." she indicated her ring, "... to happen, and I _know_ I can trust you to do right by me."

"Again, thank you," said Cygnus. "I'm honoured you think that way. But, at least discuss it with your parents, first. Besides, there's going to be a great deal of paperwork to deal with before reaching that stage. The first of which will be reactivating your House.

"Once it becomes acknowledged House Dagworth-Granger has been reactivated with Hermione as its undisputed Head through primogenitor, you're going to find yourselves very quickly courted by others. There will be those who hope you will align your House with theirs; there will be offers of betrothal contracts..."

"What?" blurted Monica, cutting in.

Cygnus nodded and said, "You know why they're important, Monica. To protect the interests of House Dagworth-Granger, it would be wise to engage in a betrothal contract before she marries.

"However, there is certainly no hurry. Most families, these days, allow their daughters to fall in love naturally. Then, when she indicates she wishes to enter into marriage with another, the Heads or Regents of those Houses involved sit down and discuss the conditions.

"One of those conditions - I beg you - will include that at least the second-born son will have the surname Dagworth-Granger, to ensure the continuation of the line. As your familial protectors, both Harry and I will ensure Hermione and her assets are _well_ protected.

"Unlike Harry's and Daphne's contract, there will be escape clauses for both parties. I will not make that mistake again."

"Sorry," she said abashed.

With a nod of acceptance, Cygnus continued, "Now, by rights, as Hermione's magical guardian, those offers should come to me, anyway. But some may try to bypass me by going _directly_ to Hermione.

"The ring she now wears has built in protections against someone trying to place Compulsion Charms or similar on any paperwork they send her. The ring will flash and or vibrate in different patterns if there's any of those sorts of hanky-panky going on. I'll be teaching Hermione what those flashes and vibrations mean and how to use the ring to protect herself from that sort of thing.

"Next. I believe Harry has already loaned Hermione certain books that cover wizarding etiquette and customs in our world..."

Harry and Hermione nodded.

"... But, as Head of a Noble and Ancient House, Hermione is going to have to learn more than what is in those books. I believe Isabel will be the best instructor for her for that."

Isabel nodded.

"That means, young lady," said Cygnus looking at Hermione. "You're going to be spending time with Isabel over the first part of your Christmas break before you go visiting your grandmother with your parents. And possibly after you return."

Hermione was clearly excited about the prospect of more learning over Christmas.

Looking back at Wendell and Monica, he said, "The biggest upside of all this, is that we can now ward your home six ways from Sunday, when we couldn't before due to your status as a muggle household. Because one no longer exists, your home will now be thought of as Dagworth-Granger Manor. A truly magical household that will have muggles living there, instead of the other way around."

"This is a lot to take in," sighed Wendell. "Again, you've done so much for my family, I cannot repay you."

"Well, said Isabel. "What we get out of this so far, is that my research will be recognised as already having found a missing heir and reactivating a once-thought extinct House. And, as it's a Noble and Ancient House, the - kudos, I think is the word - are going to be a _lot_. It validates my research making it worth that much more.

"Our House benefits a great deal, just from that alone."

"But, it's not something we've done for you," said Wendell.

"I have an idea for you, if you're interested," said Harry, having a brainwave.

"Yes?" asked Wendell.

"Isabel's research would be helped enormously by the application of a computer," said Harry. "I don't know all that much about them, myself. But I do know they're just what you need when dealing with databases."

Monica was nodding and said, "Go on..."

"See if you can get the British Registrars Office to send you the births, deaths and marriages records in database form on a - floppy? - or similar," he suggested. "Then ask Cygnus to send you a copy of all the records in the Book of Bloodlines associated with extinct Houses, and enter that information into the database. And, finally, you need access to the latest magical census to develop your database of known magicals."

"And then I can run a matching script to compare names between the three, looking for similarities..." said Monica, nodding thoughtfully.

"Exactly," said Harry.

"I - don't know what any of that meant," said Isabel. "But it sounds as if you've a way to find other heirs of perceived extinct Houses."

"Yes," said both Monica and Harry.

"A computer is a machine that can count and compare data - little pieces of information - extremely fast," said Monica. "Database management, as Harry described, is one of the main reasons computers exist in mainstream life today. It's what they're built to do.

"I even have the perfect piece of software already installed on my computer to do the job. The longest, and most tedious part, will be taking the information from this Book of Bloodlines, and the magical census you mentioned, and entering that data - information - into the database. However, once it's in, it'll only take minutes for the computer to make the matches."

"You can _do_ this?" asked Isabel a little shocked.

"Yes," replied Monica. "Easily. And I can even show you, on the computer, how it's done. It's just tedious to enter all the data – information."

"If you do this..." breathed Isabel, thinking furiously.

Harry laughed and asked, "How many extinct Houses being reactivated due to your combined research do you think it will take before the Minister wants to hang an Order of Merlin around your neck? And how do you think he'll react when the Wizengamot find out it's a muggle involved?"

Turning to Monica, he said, "Trust me on this. If you pull this off, and I've no doubt you will, she'll be begging Daphne and I to name our first born daughter after you."

"Yes," said Isabel glaring at him with a smirk. "I will."

That had everyone laughing.

"And what about my poor hand, writing it all out?" asked Cygnus.

Harry grinned and shook his head. "Monica only needs to be able to read the pages to transcribe the information into the computer.

Turning to Wendell, he said, "How about you purchase a little pocket camera with an automatic flash for Cygnus and show him how to load the canisters and batteries?"

Grinning back, Wendell said, "Then all he needs to do is photograph the relevant pages and return the canisters to us for developing. That'll speed the whole thing up immensely. Good idea!"

After ordering lunch, and engaging in further discussions and arrangement of times for various visits, they were finally able to get to Christmas shopping.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry was glad when they finally returned to Greengrass Estate to rest. He wanted to just collapse on his bed and snooze, but he also wanted to get his gifts for others wrapped first.

He wouldn't tell them to their faces but he didn't trust either Astoria or Sirius _not_ to peek before they were wrapped. Both thought it was part and parcel of the Christmas present ritual to try and find out what they would be receiving in advance of the day.

Harry was even using the idea of placing small gifts in large boxes and wrapping them; and shrinking large gifts _before_ wrapping them; just to try and throw the two sneaks off.

Luckily, he had all the unwrapped gifts inside his emptied-for-the-purpose trunk, and was only taking out one gift at a time to wrap it, when Astoria came bursting into the room without knocking.

She had a wide, excited grin on her face that quickly fell when she didn't catch Harry with her unwrapped present out in the open.

"_Tori!_" he yelled at her.

Not catching Harry unprepared, she pouted, stamped her foot and stormed off in a huff.

Harry just grinned at her retreating form. She may have _almost_ caught him the previous year, but not this one. He'd learned and prepared.

Harry had just banished the door close behind her, when Daphne opened the door back up and came in. "I take it Tori just came bursting in without knocking to see if she could catch you with all the Christmas presents you'd bought out in the open?"

"Right in one," replied Harry.

Hesitating for just a moment, she then 'slinked' over to Harry, throwing her arms around his neck and, with a breathy whisper, asked, "Any clues you want to give me about mine?"

Though all the hairs on the back of his neck and arms all stood up from her breath on his ear, Harry emotionally fought through the effect it had on him and squeaked, "No."

She pulled back from him with a frustrated frown. So, turning the tables on her, he spun in her arms and, pulling her in close chest-to-chest, lightly nibbled on her earlobe before asking, "And what did you get for _me_, dear heart?"

As he lightly nibbled on her ear, Daphne felt the effect right down to her toes and everywhere in between. She moaned ever so slightly before she was able to gather up her own courage and say, "No. You won't get it out of me. That's unfair!"

Pulling back, Harry chuckled and said, "I'm only using your own tactics against you."

She pulled completely out of his arms and, with a frown, said, "I'm a girl! We're allowed to use our feminine wiles on you males."

"Oh?" asked Harry, before quickly darting across and scooping her back into his arms. Once he had her firmly within his grip he bent forward and lightly kissed her neck over and over. After about half a dozen kisses, with Daphne lightly squirming in his arms and mewling a little, he asked, "Is that the way you really want it?"

"Oh, Merlin, _no_!" she moaned.

Harry quickly pulled back, out of her arms and reach, and with a grin said, "Good." Before turning around and walking back to his trunk, pretending to ignore her.

He had his back to her because, what he couldn't ignore and suspected she would notice, was that she had an effect on him; a very _physical_ effect on him.

For her own part, it's likely Daphne wouldn't have noticed, anyway. Because she, too, felt the effects of his kissing on her own body. When she did notice it, she just squeaked a little and fled his room.

After she left, Harry used his wand to, once more, banish the door close.

'Damn,' he thought, thinking of his own bodily reaction within his pants. 'I didn't expect _that_ to happen just yet.'

But he was pleased _that_ part of his life was finally starting to occur. He was getting worried something was wrong because he noticed the other boys in his dorm were beginning to have bodily changes. Hair was starting to grow.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"So, each rhythm of the flash, and each colour of the flash, show different things," said Hermione.

"Exactly," replied Cygnus.

Harry and Hermione were in the informal dining room with Cygnus. He had laid out parchment and various drinks that had been potioned in one form or another, or charmed in one way or another, or any combination of the two.

Each taking turns, Harry and Hermione were able to identify various potions and charms placed on or within each. A parchment had a Compulsion Charm placed on it, a drink was spiked with a Loyalty Potion, a letter had both a love potion and a Compulsion Charm on it, and others included various poisons.

"Each is designed in some way to control you, or just flat-out poison you," instructed Cygnus. "Therefore, each is picked up by the ring you wear. For example, the Compulsion Charm could be keyed to make you sign a document; and a love potion, such as _Amortentia_, can be keyed to make you fall in love with someone. Combinations of what are otherwise pretty benign can become quite nasty. A Compulsion Charm keyed with a love potion can lead you to committing murder; something which happened almost a hundred years ago now.

"Thankfully, there are laws against these sorts of things, and the rings help. As you're an unattached witch, Hermione, such things can also be considered an attempt at _Line Theft_; which can see the perpetrator executed or just stuffed into Azkaban for the rest of their life.

"However, it needs to be caught before it has an affect on you. And you need to be ready to push charges against the culprit. That's why you must always wave your right hand down low over everything that arrives via owl or elf, whatever is handed to you, and anything not prepared specifically by your own elves. Especially, first check all the food and drink you're going to consume at Hogwarts before putting it in your mouth."

Hermione nodded, recognising the severity of the matter.

"Good," said Cygnus with a nod. "Now, I believe Isabel will be waiting for you in the parlour."

"Thank you, Cygnus," she said, before darting off.

"I see what you mean about how she's an information sponge like you, but in a different way," said Cygnus looking at Harry.

"Hermione doesn't have my eidetic memory," said Harry. "But she makes up for it by studying even harder. I would have never, on my own, been able to get our little group of friends up to holding the top seven spots in school. That is a combination of Hermione's drive and the intelligence of our friends."

"And of your leadership, Harry," said Cygnus with a smile. "Don't sell yourself short. You're the glue that holds that group together, irrespective of the House boundaries. And it's your leadership that makes your group excel in their studies.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On Christmas Day, Harry had a prank planned for Astoria.

He rose early and quietly got ready for the day. Then he put a mannequin head with a black hair wig that matched his own in the bed with the covers drawn up. And he made copies of his pillows and used them to make it look like he was still in bed and sleeping with his head turned away from the door.

When everything was ready he laid down on the floor on the opposite side of the bed from the door. And had a book or two out to read through while he waited.

Sure enough, his door swung open, banging against the stops as Astoria charged in half-screaming, "_Haaarrryyyy!_"

As soon as the door banged open, Harry set aside the book he was reading and set himself into a low crouch, right up alongside the bed, wand at the ready.

As soon as he knew Astoria had jumped onto the fake Harry he stood straight up and hit her with a light stinking hex right on her behind.

The poor little girl first thought she's killed her future brother-in-law when his head seemed to fly off when she jumped on him; then was frightened further when she noticed movement off the side of the bed. The final straw came when she felt Harry's stinging hex strike her bottom.

With a scream loud enough to wake the neighbours - the closest were almost six miles away - she vaulted back off the bed and turned to face Harry where he was now standing alongside the other side of the bed, grinning like a loon.

"You - you - _prat!_" she screamed at him, her heart beating wildly in her ears.

Harry laughed and jumped onto the bed before he used his evil wizard laugh and started to quickly make his way towards her. Astoria took off running, screaming all the way; with Harry in hot pursuit.

In the parlour, the family had already gathered. Astoria came barrelling in and loudly declaimed, "Harry Potter is an evil, evil boy; and you should throw him out, Daddy!"

Harry came strolling nonchalantly in through the door with a smile on his face. "And that should teach you not to come barrelling into my room, in future, and attack me in my sleep."

"But you weren't asleep!" she snarled in a little girl fashion. "You were hiding on the other side of the bed and attacked me when I wasn't looking!

"Alright, you two," said Isabel. "That's quite enough. It sounds like Harry got the better of you, this time."

Astoria just frowned and pouted at her mother. However, her attitude completely changed when Cygnus, from where he was sitting on the floor, offered her the first gift.

Harry went and sat alongside Daphne and held her hand.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	40. Punishing Boys

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty – Punishing Boys**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As a family, after the exchange of gifts, they visited the Grangers, then the Davises, then on to the Abbotts. The others were by special invitation during the afternoon round after they had lunch with the Abbotts.

Harry and Daphne visited a short time with Gran and Neville at Longbottom Hall, as they were due to visit Saint Mungo's to see Neville's parents. Then went on to Bones Manor to visit with Aunt Amelia and Susan, and finally to the Black House to visit Sirius and Remus. They returned well before dinner, with Sirius and Remus in tow as they had to be home before the older Greengrasses headed off to the Ministry Yule Ball.

Tracey, Susan, Neville and Hannah all had permission to overnight at Greengrass Estate because Sirius and Remus promised to oversee all of the kids including Astoria. Remus was able to visit because it was a day over halfway through the lunar cycle and was effectively a new moon.

The eight kids spent the late afternoon and early evening talking about all the gifts they received. Harry was especially proud of the new trunks he bought each for Daphne, Astoria and Hermione. Each trunk was a match to his own with double compartments, a magical signature lock and each with their names and House crests on top next to the leading edge.

Astoria was a little sad it wasn't jewellery like she received from Harry the previous year, until she received a second gift from Harry. It was a fine silver necklace with the name Astoria, also in fine silver in a kind of Old English script, hanging from two points on the chain.

On seeing it, Astoria squealed and took it to Harry demanding he put it around her neck for her. As she sat on the floor with her back to him, he manipulated the tiny clasp until the chain was properly affixed.

Later, Harry told Cygnus and Isabel it was an emergency portkey that would take her to Saint Mungo's. All she had to do was grasp her name in her fist and call '_Help!_'.

The second gift he bought Daphne was a set of silver hairclips with Slytherin green inlays that she could wear with her Hogwarts uniform.

Harry received a set of Quidditch balls and two beaters bats in their own enchanted box, a stronger set of Quidditch armour, and a new broom servicing kit from Hermione. Most important of all, was a wizarding photo album from the group, except Hermione because she couldn't help, of photographs of himself and his parents they'd spent all last summer scrounging for from friends of his parents and the staff of Hogwarts.

While the late afternoon was spent playing a bit of Quidditch, he spent a lot of that evening going through the photographs and reading the little captions beneath them that said when and where the photographs were taken. It was his most treasured gift.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the ride back to school, before Harry had a chance to lock the door to their compartment, they were again joined by Luna.

The Seven just looked at one another and shrugged it away. This time, Neville locked the door with the Door Sealing Charm. When it worked he grinned and said he'd been practicing it on his bedroom door at home.

After only a few minutes into the journey, Luna suddenly said to Hermione in her light voice, "Congratulations on finding out you're the Head of what was thought an extinct House, Lady Hermione. I'm ever so pleased for you."

"Errr - thank you, Luna," she stammered. "I appreciate your kind words. But, please call me Hermione."

"Thank _you_, Hermione," said a dreamy Luna. "Daddy will probably want to me to interview you, at some time, as you're the first of the extinct Houses to revert back to Active status."

"Oh - alright," replied Hermione. "But - just not yet, alright?"

"I know," replied Luna. "You won't be ready for a while yet." Then she went back to reading her newsmagazine.

Harry wasn't the only one confused by what the young Ravenclaw was saying. But, he didn't want to seem rude to the girl, so just let her be.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back at Hogwarts the students quickly returned to their routine of classes. Only now, Harry was also having to get used to everyone thinking he was the Heir of Slytherin. The entire student body, except his six friends, Luna and the Weasley twins, gave him a wide berth. The Weasley twins even pranked him by waiting for him outside classes, some days, and escorting him around the castle.

They went out of their way to march ahead of Harry and his friends down the corridors, shouting, "Make way for the Heir of Slytherin, seriously evil wizard coming through!"

They were stopped by their older brother, Percy, a Gryffindor Sixth Year Prefect, who was deeply disapproving of this behaviour. "It is not a laughing matter," he said coldly.

"Oh, get out of the way, Percy," said Fred. "Harry's in a hurry."

"Yeah, he's off to the Chamber of Secrets for a cup of tea with his fanged servant," said George, chortling.

Harry didn't mind. It made a mockery of the whole 'Heir of Slytherin' thing; and made him feel better that the twins, at least, thought the idea of his being Slytherin's heir was quite ludicrous. But, their antics seemed to be aggravating Draco Malfoy, who looked increasingly sour each time he saw them at it.

"It's because he's bursting to say it's really him," said Tracey knowingly. "You know how he hates anyone beating him at anything; and you're getting all the credit for his father's dirty work."

Having managed to escape from the Weasley twins, one afternoon, by way of his invisibility cloak. Harry was heading for the corridor where Mrs Norris was attacked when he heard caretaker Filch.

"...even more work for me! Mopping all night, like I haven't got enough to do! No, this is the final straw, I'm going to Dumbledore..." His footsteps receded along the out-of-sight corridor and he heard a distant door slam.

Harry poked his head around the corner and could see Filch had long gone. He was once again on the spot where Mrs. Norris had been attacked. And, at a glance, he could see what Filch had been shouting about. A great flood of water stretched over half the corridor. And it looked as though it was still seeping from under the door of the girl's bathroom. Now that Filch had stopped shouting, he could hear wails echoing off the bathroom walls.

Harry wondered who the girl was who was crying, and was about to investigate when he realised it must have been that ghost the girls told him about, Moaning Myrtle. Instead, he decided it wasn't worth finding out and left, continuing on his way.

He'd managed to sneak past the flooding and was just about to leave the corridor when he saw a First Year Gryffindor girl coming the other way. It was young Ginevra Weasley, and she was walking as if in a daze. He was going to stop her and ask her if she was alright when he realised that she couldn't see him, anyway, under the invisibility cloak. Talking to her meant removing the cloak; and removing the cloak meant tolerating the whole fear of him being the Heir of Slytherin probably even from her.

Instead, he sighed as he watched her go and hurried on. He'd check with the twins later to ask if their sister was alright.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

It was New Years Eve when it became public knowledge via the Daily Prophet that the previously thought extinct House of Dagworth-Granger had been reactivated. However, it wasn't public knowledge as to the identity of the new Head of House.

As Harry had expected, it wasn't long before someone in the Ministry was sufficiently bribed by the Daily Prophet to release the information to them on the sly. It became front page news that the Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger was Hermione only a few days after their return to Hogwarts.

Harry had planned to send an immediate owl message to Cygnus and Wendell when it occurred but, as it was front page news, he knew both men would be aware of it the same time he was.

When the Daily Prophet was read by the students and staff, word quickly spread around the tables. Most were quite surprised, and some were pleased for her. However, there were some dirty looks directed Hermione's way from the Slytherin table.

Before things got out of hand, Harry and Daphne escorted Hermione to the front of the head table and stood with her facing the students.

He called, "May I have everyone's attention, please." It wasn't necessary, though, as they already had it. "I know the Daily Prophet is often full of lies and untruths..." 'Ha! Take that!' "...but, in this instance, they are essentially correct.

"Through diligent research over the past few months, just before Christmas it was discovered our friend, Miss Hermione Jean Granger, is a direct descendant of Hector Dagworth-Granger, the first Lord and Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger."

As planned, Hermione lifted her right hand and showed her Head of House ring.

"This, of course, means she is not a muggleborn; but is, instead, a half-blood like me," continued Harry. "I'm sure you'll congratulate her on this discovery when you have the opportunity. For Lady Hermione, this means she has the burden of taking seat within the Wizengamot when she comes of age, and will be formally known as Lady Hermione Jean Dagworth-Granger.

"In the mean time, she will remain Miss Hermione Granger here at school unless, of course, she is emancipated earlier."

Harry and Daphne then stepped apart from her. Daphne gave a slow low curtsey while Harry gave a bow accorded one Head of House to another. Then Hermione gave a slow and slightly deeper curtsey back.

What Harry and Daphne were pleased to note was the number of bows and curtseys accorded Hermione from the students and staff, before light applause broke out. Even some of the Slytherins of noble stock, though they were clearly unhappy to do so, accorded her the courtesy. Harry and Daphne were not surprised to note Malfoy wasn't one of them.

Harry and Daphne then escorted a blushing, quite embarrassed, Hermione back to her seat.

The owls started flocking in the very next day. The group helped her sort through them and forward on everything of relevance to Cygnus.

Thankfully, there were no 'suspect' documents or packages. However, every time they discovered a betrothal contract, Hermione didn't know whether to blush in embarrassment or anger. It was even worse for her, when one of those contracts was for a boy attending Hogwarts at that time. She couldn't help but look in their direction.

On his offer, Hermione left it to Harry, as her Protector, to approach the boys concerned and let them know the contract would be formally refused once initial matters relating to her public recognition were resolved.

He had the most fun doing it when one of the boys happened to be Cedric Diggory.

At lunch, on the day it was received, he approached the Fourth Year Hufflepuff and asked to speak with him in private. They left the Great Hall and went into the antechamber off the Entrance Hall.

"What is this about, Potter?" asked the older boy, clearly annoyed to have been called away from his friends.

"Mister Diggory," said Harry, in his official voice. "As Protector of Lady Hermione, and at her request, the duty has fallen to me to _unofficially_ inform you at this time that, though Lady Hermione is honoured your father believes she will make an excellent wife for you, his offer of a betrothal contract between yourself and her, will not be accepted at this time."

As he was talking, the older boy's face slowly changed from one of consternation and curiosity, to one of complete shock and embarrassment.

"I - He _didn't_!" he spluttered.

"I take it from your expression and words you were unaware of this," said Harry. "Then, you have my apologies I be the bearer of such news."

"I'm - I'm going to _kill_ him!" the older boy said.

Harry grinned and said, "If it makes you feel better, I found out about my betrothal the day I went to the bank to see if I had any money left to me by my parents; only to find I was in an unescapable betrothal arrangement to a girl I'd never even heard of, let alone met before."

The older boy snorted and said, "No, it doesn't." Though, it was clear his thoughts were on other matters.

Harry just grinned even wider before stepping back, offering the older boy a Head of House bow, which was almost unconsciously returned, and leaving him in the antechamber to his thoughts.

Walking back into the Great Hall, he went up to the group of friends the older boy had been sitting with and said, "Cedric's just received a bit of a shock. He'll be along in a few moments, after he's collected his thoughts."

On returning to his own group of friends, he said to Hermione, "That's Mister Diggory done. Like one of the others, he was unaware of it."

They were just discussing another when Diggory walked in and went straight to his friends. He said a few words to them and then, looking a little flushed, walked straight up to where Hermione was sitting with Harry and the others.

When Hermione noticed him, Diggory gave a formal bow.

As Susan was sitting right alongside Hermione, on the side away from Diggory, she immediately began whispering in Hermione's ear.

Hermione stood with Susan standing right behind her. She then formally curtseyed back with only the slightest of bobs. The Hall went silent as they watched the formal exchange.

"Lady Hermione," the older boy quietly said, clearly uncomfortable. "I was unaware my father had offered you a betrothal contract. If I was aware of it in advance I would have - engaged in heated words with him on the matter.

"Please accept my apologies on behalf of House Diggory for my father's - presumptuousness."

With Susan whispering in her ear, Hermione replied, "Mister Diggory, on behalf of House Dagworth-Granger, I accept your apology on behalf of House Diggory; and hope this matter will not come between us."

"I will ensure it does not, Lady Hermione," the boy said. "Thank you." Then he gave another formal bow to which Hermione responded with a curtsey of her own.

Diggory quickly left and returned to his friends giving Harry a nod of acknowledgement on the way past, still very lightly blushing in embarrassment. The hubbub of conversation returned among the tables.

"Now _that_ took courage," said Harry.

The others agreed.

"And, Hermione?" asked Harry looking towards the still embarrassed girl. "That was _very_ well done."

"It was Susan..." began Hermione.

"Hush!" said Susan, riding over the top of her. "It was _you_. I just provided you with the formal phrasing."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

January faded into February and, though the attacks seemed to have stopped, the other students were still skittish around Harry. However, most seemed to believe the attacks had stopped for good.

Peeves wasn't helping matters though; he kept popping up in the crowded corridors singing "Oh, Potter, you rotter..." now with a dance routine to match.

Lockhart seemed to think he himself had made the attacks stop. Neville and Hermione overheard him telling Professor McGonagall so, while the Gryffindors were lining up for Transfiguration.

"I don't think there'll be any more trouble, Minerva," he had said to her, tapping his nose knowingly and winking. "I think the Chamber has been locked for good this time. The culprit _must_ have known it was only a matter of time before _I_ caught him. Rather sensible to stop now, before I came down hard on him."

They also said Lockhart was planning some sort of morale-booster.

And it became quite clear what that morale-booster was on the 14th February. As he hadn't had much sleep the night before, finalising his Valentine's Day gift for Daphne, when Harry entered the Great Hall he thought for a moment he'd walked through the wrong doors.

The walls were all covered with large, lurid pink flowers. Worse still, heart-shaped confetti was falling from the enchanted ceiling. Harry went over to the Gryffindor table, where the others were sitting; and Hermione, Susan and Hannah seemed to have been overcome with giggles.

Daphne was looking at him while holding a twined pair of sapphire blue roses. As he approached she stood up and stepped over the bench seat before grabbing him by a fistful of his robes, yanking him in close, and snogging him in front of everybody.

This time, Harry chose to ignore the catcalls. Although there were far fewer than the last year.

Once he was allowed to come up for air, he asked, "Alright, does someone want to tell me what's going on?"

"You mean, besides your betrothed snogging you senseless?" asked Tracey with a giggle.

"I mean, with the decorations," blushed Harry, trying to growl back.

"To hell with the decorations," said Daphne, cutting in. "I want to know about my roses. Why and how blue?"

"Well, the how is a simple Colour Changing Charm," he replied. "I took white rosebuds and turned them sapphire blue. The why, is so you can have them shrunk and transfigured to enamelled metal like last year's roses, and then be able to wear them with the jewellery I bought you Christmas before last."

She reached across and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you," she said. "That's very thoughtful; and I love them."

"You're welcome," he softly replied.

Finally, properly pulling apart, he asked the others, "Anyway, what's with all the giggling?"

Susan just pointed at the head table and said, "_Lockhart!_"

Harry, while taking seat with Daphne, looked up just in time to see Lockhart, wearing lurid pink robes to match the decorations, waving for silence. The teachers on either side of him were looking stony-faced. From where he sat, Harry could see a muscle twitching in Professor McGonagall's cheek. Snape looked as though someone had just fed him a large beaker of Skele-Gro.

"Happy Valentine's Day!" shouted the fop. "And may I thank the forty-six people who have so far sent me cards! Yes, I have taken the liberty of arranging this little surprise for you all - and it doesn't end here!"

Lockhart clapped his hands and, through the doors to the Entrance Hall, marched a dozen surly-looking dwarfs. And not just any dwarfs, however. Lockhart had them all wearing golden wings and carrying harps.

"My friendly, card-carrying cupids!" beamed Lockhart. "They will be roving around the school today delivering your valentines! And the fun doesn't stop here! I'm sure my colleagues will want to enter into the spirit of the occasion!

"Why not ask Professor Snape to show you how to whip up a Love Potion! And while you're at it, Professor Flitwick knows more about Entrancing Enchantments than any wizard I've ever met, the sly old dog!"

Professor Flitwick buried his face in his hands. And Snape was looking as though the first person to ask him for a Love Potion would be force-fed poison.

When the owl mail came in, each of their girls received a rose in their own house colours with a card. This year, the card and roses came from both Neville and Harry. Harry had decided to help Neville out with the Colour Changing Charm for each of the roses.

Tracey and Daphne each received a silver rose with green edging, Susan and Hannah each received a gold rose with black edging, and Hermione received a red rose with gold edging. Both boys were suitably rewarded similar to Neville's reward the previous year. And, just because they could, Luna received her own 'friendship' card, together with a blue rose with bronze edging.

When she saw the other girls kissing Neville and Harry on the cheek, she came over and planted her own on each boy's cheek, as well. "Thank you, Neville. Thank you, Harry," she said with an odd expression. "I shall treasure this, always." And returned to the Ravenclaw table.

"You gave Luna one?" Daphne asked Harry, with her own odd expression.

Harry shrugged and said, "We had the spare. Besides, I never see her with any friends. And our offer of friendship should make her day for her."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry was sitting with the others, except for Neville and Hermione, in their room within the Come and Go Room when Neville came barrelling in out of breath. He ran up to the back of the nearest couch and, placing both hands on the back of it, bent over.

Hannah walked over and asked, "Neville? What ever is the matter?"

Neville gave a wave signifying he was okay and looked up at Harry with almost a panicky expression. "Harry!" he wheezed. "You need - to run!"

Surprised, Harry asked, "Run? Why?"

Panting, Neville replied, "Hermione - received - an account statement - from the goblins - concerning her - family vaults!"

Harry suddenly sat up straight and, in a small voice, said, "Uh-oh!"

Still panting, Neville said, "She's on - the warpath - and coming - here!"

"Harry? What. Did. You. Do?" said Daphne glaring at him.

"Errr - I gave Hermione a 'welcome to the ennobled club' gift," he replied, a little fearful.

"Harry! She's right - behind me!" said a near-frantic Neville.

"Yeah," he replied. "I need to go."

"Go where?" asked Susan.

"Hide!" replied Harry getting up and about to make his way to the doors.

Suddenly the doors to the room banged open and Hermione stood there, panting hard. She looked furious. Neville elped and scampered over the couch to move to stand just behind Harry.

"Harry James Potter!" she barked. "And, Neville Francis Longbottom!"

"Oh, shite!" said Harry staring at Hermione in full Wrath-of-the-Gods mode. "She used our full names."

"Now; Hermione..." he tried.

She stepped more fully into the room and slammed the door behind her. "Don't - you - _dare_ - try to come up with a lame excuse for this!" she screeched, waving a set of Gringotts bank statements at the pair of them.

"Errr..." stammered Harry, before turning to a just as afraid Neville and muttering, "We need to get past her, Nev. You run around one side and I'll run around the other. It should make her hesitate long enough for us to make our escape."

Neville just nodded without taking his eyes off Hermione.

"What did you pair of reprobates do?" asked Susan with her own angry voice.

"Not much, really," replied Harry, not looking towards her. "It was just a small thing. Nothing to get upset about, really."

"A _small_ thing?" snarled Hermione, having clearly heard. "_A SMALL thing?_"

"Get ready, Nev," muttered Harry out the side of his mouth.

Hermione came stomping over. Both boys were happy they had a couch between her and them.

Just as she reached the back of the couch, Harry snapped out, "_Now!_" and both boys took off in opposite directions circling around the angry girl towards the door.

"Come back here!" she screeched at them.

"Not a chance!" yelled Harry, as he and Neville reached the door a half second apart.

Harry yanked the door open and Neville darted outside with Harry hot on his heels. They both took off for the secret passage, planning on getting out of the vicinity as quickly as possible.

Inside the room, Hermione was glaring at the door and growling.

"Hermione?" called Daphne. "Perhaps you should calm down, take a seat, and tell us what our two disobedient boys have done."

After a few moments, Hermione huffed, releasing a lot of her anger. She walked around the couch and plonked herself down upon it.

She then handed the documents that were clutched tightly in her hand to Daphne and growled, "_They're_ not the only disobedient _boys_. Your father and Sirius are as _much_ to blame. However, I can only get my hands on _those_ two, at the moment."

Taking the documents, Daphne smoothed them out and began to read what was bothering Hermione so much.

After a few seconds she looked up and, in a soft voice, said, "Oh, dear."

"What did they do?" asked Hannah.

Hermione sat back in her seat, crossed her arms and fumed quietly, muttering to herself.

Gathering herself, Daphne replied, "Well, what Harry, Neville - through his Gran - my father, and Sirius did - was transfer money into the Dagworth-Granger vaults."

Frowning, Hannah asked, "How much?"

"One hundred and sixty _thousand_ Galleons!" snarled Hermione.

"_How_ much?" squeaked Tracey.

"One hundred and sixty _thousand_ Galleons!" snarled Hermione for a second time as if she hadn't done it already.

The other girls were stunned.

The first to recover, Susan asked, "But, _why_?"

Rifling through the documents, Daphne said, "According to the included documents, they're four separate open-ended loans of nil interest - For the purpose of re-establishing the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger."

After a few moments Tracey started laughing.

"It's not funny!" snarled Hermione.

"Oh, yes, it is!" replied Tracey. "_And_ it's brilliant!"

The others thought that through for a bit before Daphne said, "She's right. It's brilliant."

Surprised enough to knock her down from furious to just annoyed, Hermione asked, "Why?"

"It's an incredibly Slytherin thing to do," said Tracey. "Now, you're beholden to their four Houses. So, when it comes out that you wish to form an alliance with their Houses - which would be politically wise, by the way - no one would question it."

"Secondly," said Daphne, thinking. "It's a most noble thing to do for their fellow Head of a Noble House. It shows solidarity among the nobility, which is always a good thing."

"They didn't ask first!" snapped Hermione.

"Which is even better," replied Daphne. "You're too _noble_ to ask for help. And they're too noble _not_ to give it. It'll also embarrass their political opponents within the Wizengamot."

The others except Hermione were nodding in understanding.

"Daphne and Tracey are right, Hermione. This is a good thing they've done," said Susan.

"It's _still_ a lot of money!" grumbled Hermione.

"Not at our level," said Daphne. "This only represents a small investment for our Houses."

"My Dad's going to flip out when he sees this," said Hermione.

"You leave him up to my father and Sirius," replied Daphne. "They'll explain it to him enough to get him to accept the help it is."

"So, I'm not allowed to tear strips off either of them?" grumble-whined the girl.

"Oh, no," said Susan. "You _still_ get to do that. After all, they're _boys_; and they should have at least let _us_ know what they were going to do."

"So, how do I get back at them?" asked Hermione, much calmer.

"Why, we're going to play on their being gentlemen for starters," said Tracey with an evil grin. "Here's what we're going to do..."

All five girls sat forward from where they were sitting - and plotted revenge. Harry and Neville felt simultaneous shivers down their backs.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next evening found both Harry and Neville sprawled off their bench seats opposite each other and over the table. The girls were sitting not far apart, prim and proper, with evil smirks on their faces.

The rest of the nearby student body was surreptitiously watching with interest.

"I'm dying!" moaned Neville.

"Me too!" moaned Harry.

"Come now, _gentlemen_," said Hannah, primly. "It's _only_ the proper thing to do, to carry a lady's bag for her."

"You put every heavy book you _had_ in your bag!" whined Harry.

"Hermione's was _worse_!" whimpered Neville.

"Well, you didn't expect _us_ to lug that heavy weight around, did you?" asked Susan.

"You should be _grateful_ we deigned to allow you the honour of carrying them for us," said Tracey, a bit prissily.

Both boys spent the time between meals and classes lugging sometimes two, occasionally three, other bags on top of their own, through the castle. And the girls weren't backwards in offering the service of the boys to carry the bags for other girls.

Harry, if he was a true gentleman, would have admitted Neville had it worse, because he always had Hermione with him. Without a Second Year female Ravenclaw in their group Harry got off a little easier. However, Neville was also a little bigger than Harry, and had the extra muscle mass from working in the family greenhouse over summer.

"I didn't think there was such a thing as an evil Hufflepuff," moaned Neville. "Until today."

"The Slytherins are still worse," moaned Harry. "They're more - _creative_."

"Eat your dinner, you two!" said Daphne with a lightly scolding voice. "We want to get some combat training in, tonight."

"Oh, good," sighed Neville. "You can train while I study."

"Sorry, no," said Hermione. "We want to train against real people."

"There's five of you," moaned Harry. "That's enough."

"Sorry, future husband of mine," said Daphne, not sounding at all sorry. "We've voted and decided its girls against boys, tonight."

"Oh, _Merlin_!" whimpered Harry.

"Shield Charms and Stinging Hexes only," said Hannah. "You'll need to eat up so you can build your strength back up for tonight."

Neville just whimpered while Harry gave signs he'd gone catatonic.

The girls all grinned at each other. The boys in the student body sitting near by just thanked Merlin they were not on the receiving end of the punishment Harry and Neville were obviously receiving.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	41. The Pact

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty One – The Pact**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

February turned into March and then April. There'd been no further attacks since the one just before Christmas break and Easter was fast approaching.

Harry had played another game of inter-House Quidditch playing as seeker for Ravenclaw against Slytherin. And this time there was no psychotic bludger to deal with.

However, the entire Slytherin team were on brand new Nimbus 2001s with Draco Malfoy as seeker. Harry thought it was going to be a difficult game and they'd be lucky to win. However, what was even worse was the level of cheating the Slytherins engaged in.

Harry was often pinned in both sides by opposing players. And he received a belting from a beater's bat on more than one occasion. He was just thankful he now wore top quality armour under his outer robes. Otherwise, he'd have been knocked off his broom, or seriously injured, before the game was even partway through.

By the time Harry had caught the snitch one of the Ravenclaw beaters and one chaser were out due to injury. Harry thought the game lost, at that point. However, Draco was such a poor seeker Ravenclaw were able to scrape a win by ten points once he caught the snitch simply by outflying his wanna-be nemesis.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During their Easter holidays, the Second Years were given something new to think about. The time had come to choose their subjects for their third year, a matter the entire group took very seriously.

"It could affect our whole future," She told the others as they pored over lists of new subjects, marking them with checks.

"I just want to give up Potions," said Harry.

"We can't," said Neville, gloomily. "We keep all our old subjects, or I would have ditched Potions, too."

"But that's very important!" said Hermione, shocked. "Especially if you want to go into Herbology, Neville."

"Not the way Snape teaches it," said Harry. "I haven't learned anything from him except how _not_ to be a professor. Everything I've learned in that class I've taught myself from the texts. In class, I just do everything from what I've learned through the books, and tend to ignore him."

Neville had been sent letters from all the witches and wizards in his family, all giving him different advice on what to choose. Confused and worried, he sat reading the subject lists with his tongue poking out, asking people whether they thought Arithmancy sounded more difficult than the study of Ancient Runes.

Eventually, Hannah took pity on him and helped him to choose Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. And explained how they would both help in a career in Herbology.

Hermione took nobody's advice and signed up for everything.

Harry smiled grimly to himself at the thought of what Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia would have said if he tried to discuss his career in wizardry with them. Not that he didn't get any guidance; Cygnus, Isabel, Sirius and even Remus were eager to share their experiences.

"Depends where you want to go, Harry," said Sirius via mirror-to-mirror. "It's never too early to think about the future, so I'd recommend Divination. People say Muggle Studies is a soft option, but I personally think wizards should have a thorough understanding of the non-magical community, particularly if they're thinking of working in close contact with them. Play to your strengths, Harry."

But the only thing Harry felt he was really good at was memorising, Quidditch, and losing his temper. In the end, he chose the same new subjects as Daphne, Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, feeling that if he was lousy at them, at least he'd have someone friendly to help him. And he was told they were both devilishly hard subjects. At least it could be something that would be a challenge for him. He hoped.

At the last moment, he also added Muggle Studies to the list. He'd heard from older muggleborns and -raised the previous year just how out of date the subject material actually was. And wanted to see it for himself. If it proved too antiquated he could easily drop it early for no penalty.

When he finally got in to see Professor Flitwick to discuss his choices the little professor was genuinely quite excited. "Just like your mother!" he exclaimed. "Mind you, she dropped Muggle Studies like a hot dragon's egg after only a few weeks. She mentioned something about - let's see - antediluvian notions of what's right under our noses - yes, I remember it well because I had to look the word up. Imagine that! And it's never wise to insult a goblin's nose, you know."

When his Head of House finally calmed down he told Harry he was more than happy to accept his choices, and that he'd also be winning a bet with 'some' of the other staff about what he'd choose. "Professor Dumbledore seemed to be of the belief you'd choose Divination and Muggle Studies, as it's be the easy option for you," he said. "I have no idea why. You're one of our top students!"

Harry left the interview happy with his choices and amused at his Head of House's antics.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On Saturday, the eighth of May, Harry hurried down to the Quidditch pitch early to talk to the Weasley twins about the weaknesses on the Hufflepuff team. He was hoping the Gryffindor team would defeat the 'Puffs to make the last game of the season, Ravenclaw against Gryffindor, the decider.

So far Hufflepuff had defeated Slytherin, Ravenclaw had defeated Hufflepuff, Slytherin had defeated Gryffindor, and Ravenclaw had defeated Slytherin. That left the Gryffindor against Hufflepuff, and Gryffindor against Ravenclaw matches.

Gryffindor had already lost to the Slytherins due to a weak performance by their seeker. But their chasers and beaters were extraordinary. When Malfoy finally caught the snitch, Gryffindor were only 120 points ahead.

Though they had already lost a game each, both Gryffindor and Hufflepuff had racked up considerable points with Hufflepuff slightly ahead; and it was the points that decided who won the Quidditch Cup. Hence, Harry was hoping the Gryff's would win.

He was in with the boys, talking, when Lee Jordan burst in. "The game's been cancelled," he blurted. "There's been another attack." before running out again.

Harry sighed and said, "Well, at least I can't be blamed for this one. I've been with you guys all morning."

"And we'll swear by that..."

"... for you, Harrikins!"

"As will we," said Alicia Spinnet, one of their chasers, who'd just walked in with the other two girls.

"Thank you," said a very heartfelt Harry.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry waited for the Gryff's to get changed out of where they'd gotten to in their Quidditch robes and walked with them back to the castle.

As they were approaching the main doors, Professor Flitwick was waiting for them. The diminutive professor looked quite anxious.

"Professor?" asked Harry. "We heard of the attack."

"Yes, Mister Potter, I know," he said. "Please come with me."

With a sigh, Harry said, "_Surely_, Dumbledore doesn't _still_ think I had anything to do with these attacks, does he?"

"No," said the professor. "Please follow me. We're going to the infirmary; not the Headmaster's office." And walked off.

Quite concerned now, Harry hurried after the quite quick Charms Professor.

"Professor Flitwick?" asked Harry. "Why the infirmary?"

As he was hurrying after the much smaller professor, Harry noticed the students were no longer looking at him in fear. Now they were looking at him with shame and sorrow, ducking their heads down or turning them away.

By the time they reached the doors to the infirmary, Harry's emotional state was approaching panic. '_Please_, _please_, don't let it be Daphne or my other friends,' he prayed. But, if it wasn't, why was he being rushed to the infirmary; and why were the other students reacting as they were?

Trotting in through the double doors to the infirmary, Harry quickly looked around. He saw Dumbledore, Snape, McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey hovering over someone lying in a bed. On seeing him, all except Snape looked at him with sadness. Snape just looked back stoically. That, in itself was a worry because the man wasn't on the edge of sneering at him.

Quickly, Harry rushed over to find out what was going on. And found Daphne lying on the bed, frozen. Her eyes were open and she had a look of surprise on her face, just like what he remembered seeing on the face of Justin Finch-Fletchley. She was petrified.

He did not know how long he stood rooted to the spot. He didn't think he'd even breathed the whole time. His stomach felt as if it had dropped out to hang between his knees. He barely heard a sound until he felt a hand land on his shoulder.

Snapping out of his stupor, he found Dumbledore had moved to stand next to him.

"Harry," the old man gently said. "She's alive. Just petrified. As are your other friends."

Hearing the old man's words Harry was, at first, relieved. But, when he mentioned 'your other friends', Harry felt his panic begin to rise up again. He snapped his head to look into the eyes of the Headmaster and croaked, "Who?"

The old man guided him past Daphne's bed and past the other adults. Then Harry could see who.

"Miss Davis and Miss Granger," the old man said, as if Harry couldn't see for himself. Neville, Susan and Hannah were standing near their beds. They'd been crying.

Hannah, looked up and rushed over to him. "Oh, Harry," she sobbed. She was quickly joined by Susan in a similar state. Neville looked away and didn't approach.

Turning to Dumbledore and the other adults, he asked "What happened? - No - I can see that. _How_ did it happen? Where were they found?"

"They were on the second floor," said Dumbledore sadly. "Near the intersection of two corridors. Miss Granger had a mirror in her hand and Miss Greengrass and Miss Davis were either side of her."

Harry slowly made his way back to his betrothed's side. The adults allowed him through. Dumbledore conjured a tall chair for him and he sat down in it with a nod of gratitude.

He gently reached out and placed his hand over Daphne's own where it appeared to be holding her robes against herself low on her chest. Her other hand appeared to be reaching out as if she was resting it on someone's back.

"Have you asked the portraits what they saw?" asked Harry.

"The portraits were all frozen, Harry," replied Dumbledore. "Just as they were at the scenes of the other attacks."

"The house elves?" he asked.

"What about them?" asked the Headmaster.

"Have you asked them if they _saw_ anything, or have any information?" Harry almost snarled.

"Errr - No," replied the old man. "But that is a good idea. Thank you, Harry."

"The castle ghosts?" he asked.

"None in the area," replied the old man. "And, after what happened to Sir Nicholas, I would fathom the same would happen to them if they were. And, possibly, the house elves.

"Any who, I must toddle off. I'm about to expect visitors!"

He didn't know how long he'd sat there, but the adults had all left before he next noticed. The two girls and Neville were also gone.

Rising, he moved away from Daphne to visit Tracey on the next bed. Standing between the two he could see how it appeared both girls were leaning over the bent over form of another.

Moving to Hermione on the next bed, he could see she had been laid on her side. She appeared to be hunched over and peering at something in her right hand, which was held out before her. He left hand was against herself holding her robes in tight.

Finally, Harry noticed Neville hadn't left and was, in fact, sitting on the floor against the wall with his knees drawn up to his chest and his head resting on his knees. His arms were wrapped around his folded legs.

"Neville," called Harry to his friend.

Neville didn't move except to shuffle his feet slightly. A few moments later, Harry saw the other boy's shoulders jiggle slightly. He was crying.

Harry moved to kneel in front of his only male friend. With a sigh, he softly called, "Neville. _Please_ look at me."

After a few moments Neville raised his head and, sobbing, said, "I couldn't protect them, Harry. They got hurt because I couldn't protect them!"

Harry was stunned. He was stunned that his friend felt he had somehow let him down by not protecting 'their' girls. And, he was stunned that his friend had taken that role onto his own shoulders.

"_Bullshit!_" snarled Harry, looking the boy in the eyes and hoping he'd look back. "It was _not_ your job to protect them. _That_ role belongs to the Headmaster and his staff. _They_ failed to protect them. _They_ let us down."

Harry reached out with his hand and gripped the other boy by his chin, turning his face to force the boy to look at him. "Look me in the eyes, Neville, and see the truth!"

Neville stared back through tear-filled eyes.

"I, Harry James Potter, do _not_ accept - nor recognise - that my friend, Neville Francis Longbottom, is in _any_ way culpable for the harm caused upon our loved ones, Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis and Hermione Granger," he firmly said. "Do you accept my word?"

Harry let him go, and Neville took a couple of deep breaths before firmly nodding.

"Good," said Harry firmly. Then he stood and offered his arm to Neville.

Neville accepted the offered arm and Harry helped him to his feet. The other boy used the sleeves of his robe to wipe his eyes clear.

"Now," said Harry. "You, I, Susan and Hannah are going to figure out just what is causing this. Then, you and I are going to go and _deal_ with it. Agreed?"

Neville nodded a couple of times with his head before he lifted his chin, stared back at Harry with grim determination, and said, "Where a Potter goes, a Longbottom will be with him."

"And where a Longbottom goes, a Potter will be there at his side," said Harry, holding his right hand out.

Neville reached out with his own right hand and they warrior-gripped each other's forearms just as the two girls walked back in.

"How much did you hear?" asked Neville.

"Almost all of it," said Susan.

"Where do we start?" asked Hannah.

"The scene of the crime," said Harry. "We know what happened. Now we're going to go and see _where_ it happened. There's something about the body positioning of the victims that I think contains the answer, or part of the answer, to this. I'm hoping the scene of the crime will give up more information."

"I know where it happened," coughed Neville. "I was one of the first people on the scene."

"Alright," said Harry. "Let's go and have a butcher's."

The other three didn't understand the term but knew what he meant. They were about to leave when Harry said, "Wait one, please."

He walked back to Daphne, leaned over the bed and gently kissed her on her cool lips. "I love you," he whispered. After a moment, he straightened and walked over to Tracey. He kissed her on the forehead and said, "We'll be back when we can."

Then moved to Hermione and did the same.

Straightening up from Hermione he said, "Alright. Now I'm ready."

The four left the infirmary to begin their investigations.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Neville led them directly to the spot. He indicated where they were standing and what else he saw.

With a frown, Harry stood and bent over a little like he saw Hermione's frozen pose and asked, "Here, like this, Nev?"

"Almost," said Neville.

Susan suddenly fished a small mirror out of her pocket and stepped forward offering it to Harry. "Here," she said. "Hermione was holding this when she was found."

Harry accepted the mirror and gratefully said, "Thank you." Then he bent back over and tried to hold the mirror like he remembered her hand positioned.

"Like this?" he asked.

Neville moved to stand where it looked like Daphne was standing. He even placed his hand in the middle of Harry's back.

"Yeah, that's about it," replied Neville.

Harry stared at the mirror and found, if he angled it just slightly from where it was, he could see straight down the middle of the cross corridor.

"Damn!" he said. "That's what she was doing."

"What?" asked Hannah.

"Hang on a sec," he replied. "Nev. From where you think Daphne was standing, look at the mirror in my hand and tell me what you see."

Neville moved slightly and, after a moment, said, "I can see down the other corridor."

"Good," said Harry. "Now move to where you think Tracey was standing, and do the same thing."

Neville moved to Harry's other side and stood as if he was leaning against him a little. A few moments later, he said, "I can see down the corridor from here, too."

"Alright; ladies, if you wouldn't mind, head down the corridor until I tell you to stop, please," he asked them.

Both girls jogged down the corridor until Harry barked, "Stop!"

Looking in the mirror he said, "Can you move to your left a couple steps?"

The girls moved as requested.

"Good," called Harry. "Alright. How much of either of us can you see?"

Susan called back, "Just your hand with the mirror and the top of your head. We can't see Neville at all!"

"Good," he called back before straightening up and stepping forward. "Alright. Come back. Thank you."

The girls came back and Harry was standing there with a frown.

"What are you thinking?" asked Susan. She understood a scene re-enactment when she saw one; or, in this case, participated in one. She'd helped her aunt out with such a couple of times when it dealt with something around a small child.

"Whatever it is causing this, it isn't something coming in contact with the - victims," said Harry. "And it's not a cast spell, else it would never have hit Daphne or Tracey."

"Unless it hit the mirror first," said Susan.

"A spell hitting the mirror would not have hit all three at the same time," muttered Harry. "Which is clearly what happened here. Something affected all three, together. Their combined - frozen poses - tell us that."

"I'm going to need to take a look at the other victims," said Harry. "I hope there will be something about them that gives us more information we can work with."

"After dinner, Harry," said Susan. "It's getting late and we need to eat."

With a sigh, Harry nodded and said, "You're right."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As the four walked into the Great Hall the student body fell silent. Some whispered to their friends and others alongside them. Neville led them to the Gryffindor table and the Gryffindor Quidditch team motioned them over, especially the Weasley twins, who made room for them.

Harry sat at the bench next to Alicia Spinnet who, surprisingly, lifted her arm and gave him a hug with it.

Harry sighed and said, "Thank you. I don't know how I'm going to handle these three weeks until the Mandrake Draught is brewed and administered."

Slowly, the noise around the hall increased. Susan, sitting on the other side of him, was trying to push him to eat and, reluctantly, he was loading his plate.

He looked up at the head table and noticed Dumbledore wasn't there.

"Where's Dumbledore?" he asked Alicia.

"Rumour has it he was sacked late this afternoon," replied Alicia. "And Hagrid's been sent to Azkaban for opening the Chamber of Secrets again."

"Oh, for crying out loud," said Harry, getting loud, himself. "Are _all_ witches and wizards in this godforsaken world _stupid_?"

Harry slammed his cutlery down and stood up. The Hall went quiet again.

"Here we go," muttered Neville.

Harry stepped back over his bench seat and turned to the rest of the Hall before turning to the head table.

"Unlike the majority in this Hall who have _repeatedly_ demonstrated to me, _each day_, that they completely _lack_ any logical thought process, I prefer to actually find out information from those who might actually know before I consider jumping to any hare-brained conclusions.

"And - he's off and running!" murmured Neville to Hannah sitting alongside him. She quietly whacked him on his arm.

"Professor McGonagall, was Albus Dumbledore stood down from his place as Headmaster today; _and_, was Groundskeeper Rubeus Hagrid arrested and sent to Azkaban?"

Professor McGonagall stared back with her lips a little pursed.

"Mister Potter, I realise you've had a very bad day, today..." she started.

"Nowhere _near_ as bad as my betrothed, Lady Daphne of House Greengrass, _or_ Lady Tracey of House Davis, _or_ Lady Hermione of House Dagworth-Granger," he ranted. "_And_, by the sounds of it, Albus too-many-middle-names Dumbledore; and _especially_ not as bad as it sounds for Rubeus Hagrid!

"Now, I've just spent the better part of this school year, over eight naffing months, being accused as being the Heir of Slytherin, and being the one who is the cause of _five_ students, a ghost and a mangy old cat being petrified. And all because you, Albus, and the rest of your staff didn't stamp on it from the get go as being verbal bullying _as you should have done_.

"So, for the purpose of clarification - and replacing rumour with fact - _was_ Dumbledore sacked today, and _was_ Rubeus Hagrid carted off to Azkaban for a crime what any _idiot_ can quickly prove he did not commit?"

"Yes, Mister Potter," she coldly said. "To both!"

That got a lot of the students animated with gasps of shock and whispering.

"So, you!" he continued to rant, pointing a finger at her. "And the rest of you; sit there _stuffing_ your faces, pretending everything's fine, while your own colleague is being dragged off to that _hell_ on earth called Azkaban!

"And not _one_ of you is making even the bare _modicum_ of an effort to contact legal representation for your so-called _friend_ and colleague, to ensure he doesn't spend a single moment on that island."

"Some _bloody_ friends you are!"

"What do you mean you can prove he didn't do it?" glared Professor McGonagall.

"It's _all_ in the public records, Professor. In June 1943, Hagrid was both expelled from this school and sent to Azkaban because it was believed he opened the Chamber of Secrets back then. You, at least, should remember this, because you were a student here at the time."

She just nodded while glaring back.

"At that time, a Fifth Year Ravenclaw student named Myrtle Malone was found dead, right?"

"Yes," she replied. "In the second floor girl's bathroom. The one she currently haunts."

"Yes. The ghost we now call Moaning Myrtle," he said. "Hagrid was - to use current vernacular - dobbed in by a Sixth Year Slytherin Prefect named Tom Marvolo Riddle. Riddle told _then_ Headmaster Dippet it _had_ to be Hagrid because Hagrid was raising an acromantula as a pet, and that the acromantula was responsible for killing the girl. That led to Hagrid's expulsion and term in Azkaban. As a bloody _fourteen year old!_

"However - on examination - the body of Myrtle Malone was found _not_ to be marked in any way, nor her body to contain any trace _whatsoever_ of acromantula venom. Therefore, the evidence that led to Hagrid's expulsion and incarceration, the word of another student, was found to be completely false. _It was a lie!_

"And yet, that _same_ student - Tom Marvolo Riddle - was given an Award for Special Services to the School, had his photograph and the false story of the event printed on the front page of the Daily Prophet - with both the award and the front page now being _proudly_ displayed in the Trophy Room here in the castle - and was made Head Boy the following year. With the last one occurring _after_ it was proven Hagrid's acromantula didn't do it, and the boy _lied_.

"No one then stepped forward, other than to see him released from Azkaban, to ensure poor Hagrid received justice! His wand was unjustly snapped, he was _forever_ forbidden from using magic even _after_ the evidence against him was proven false and he was effectively exonerated. And, the only job he's ever held is the low paying one of groundskeeper, here at the Hogwarts. A school he is forever forbidden to study within. And a job of which he is, _right now_, the longest serving member of staff! _Your_ staff!

"And the most _galling_ of all, Professor, is that you were a Seventh Year Gryffindor Prefect here at Hogwarts at the time all this was happening. And Dumbledore was the Transfiguration Professor. You _know_ all this. In only _one month_ it will be the fiftieth anniversary of Hagrid's unjust punishment. And in _all_ that time, you and Dumbledore both - let alone anyone else - have done _nothing_ to help Hagrid clear his name and to _finally_ get the magical education he _is due_.

"Well, now it's happening _again_. Poor Hagrid is being carted off with _no_ evidence _whatsoever_ he is responsible for this latest so-called opening of the Chamber of Secrets. And not _one_ of you are stepping forward to stop it."

"So, Professor, I now ask you _all_, are you going to sit there and continue to _stuff_ your faces, or get off your _arses_ and get your friend and colleague the proper legal representation he _should_ have had in the _first place_?"

In the silence that followed, Professor Flitwick slowly rose to stand on his seat. "Well reasoned, Mister Potter. Now, if you will excuse me, I have a floo call to make."

"No, Filius," McGonagall said, reaching out her hand, without looking, to grab the Charms Master by his arm. "I do."

Without another word, Professor McGonagall used a napkin to lightly wipe her mouth, placed it alongside her plate, rose, and quickly left the Great Hall by the staff entrance.

Professor Flitwick hurried after her.

That got the student body talking excitedly among themselves. Just as Harry was about to return to the Gryffindor table, Snape snarked, "One _hundred_ points from Ravenclaw for your cheek and effrontery, Potter!"

Harry ignored him and returned to sitting at the table. He didn't have the strength to snark back at the man that effrontery and cheek meant the same thing.

"Bloody _Hell_, Harry," said Neville. "When you go on a rant, you _really_ don't hold back."

"Oh, I'm not finished," said Harry picking up a goblet of pumpkin juice and downing more than half of it in one go. "I have no doubt I'll be embarrassing Lockhart the same way, in the near future."

Thinking about it and shaking his head, he said, "No, I've got a better way that just talking about it; even if it _is_ in front of a full sitting in the Great Hall."

Both Professors McGonagall and Flitwick returned to the Great Hall and resumed their meals about thirty minutes later. Professor Flitwick caught his eye when they were pointed out to him and, with a slight nod, acknowledged him.

Harry knew legal representation was now heading towards Hagrid.

Just as the meal was winding up, Harry heard his third most hated voice from behind. "So, Potter; you got your _betrothed_, her friend _and_ the mudblood..."

Before anyone could even attempt to reach out to stop him, Harry was up off the bench, jumped up onto it while turning about, and jumping off the other side while his left fist swung down from on high to crack solidly against Malfoy's right cheekbone.

Landing on his feet, Harry stepped forward as Malfoy staggered back, and rabbit punched him as hard as he could with an uppercut to the solar plexus.

With an '_uurrgghh!_' sound Malfoy rocked further back and bent at the waist with both hands coming around to cross and grip his abdomen.

A final step through and between the two bullyboys, who were standing there flat-footed, and Harry finished him up with an uppercut to the bent over face, breaking the boy's nose and sending him sprawling back onto the floor.

Before the shock passed everyone else, Harry barked at Malfoy where he was writhing on the floor trying to hold his nose and abdomen at the same time, "If you _ever_ use that _filthy_, _disgusting_ word in relation to my _Protectee_, Lady Hermione, again, you and I will cross wands in a Class Three wizard's duel!"

"_Potter!_" barked Snape as he was hurrying from the head table, followed by Professors Flitwick and, lastly, McGonagall. "One hundred points from Ravenclaw for that disgusting display of fisticuffs; and detention, with me, for the rest of the school year!"

"No!" snarled back Harry. "I refuse to recognise any form of punishment meted out by you, or anyone else, until a proper and _full_ investigation is carried out by the Deputy Head as per the Charter of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Section 9, Subsection 16!"

"How _dare_ you!" snarled Snape after a few moments of incoherence due to anger.

"I _dare_, Potions Master Snape, because I am _in the right_!" snarled Harry. "As is _any_ student who makes the same claim when met with the overtly biased _nonsense_ you laughingly call discipline."

"I'll handle this, Severus," barked Professor McGonagall coming forward, at last. "Mister Potter is correct in who deals with this sort of incident."

Snape, though he looked fit to blow a gasket, just glared at Harry before he levitated Malfoy and headed off with him to the infirmary.

The two bullyboys looked set to follow when Harry said, "Freeze right where you are, you two. You're witnesses and I won't have you heading off to collaborate on your stories."

"Mister Crabbe, Mister Goyle, stay right here," ordered Professor McGonagall. Turning back to Harry she demanded, "Alright, Mister Potter. Explain to me why you felt it necessary to strike Mister Malfoy repeatedly like that."

"Certainly, Professor," replied Harry in a calmer voice. "When you hear it, please note, I'm also willing to provide a pensieve memory of the entire event."

McGonagall nodded once in acknowledgement. And Harry relayed the entire event with the dialogue included verbatim.

Looking around, she asked, "Is there anyone here that has a different view of what happened?"

No one disagreed, not even either bullyboy.

Then Harry said, "I remind you, Professor, that Miss Granger has worn the Potter crest on her left shoulder since the 31st of October 1991, thus signifying she is a Protectee of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. Mister Malfoy is _fully_ aware of what that means. He is also, no doubt, fully aware of what action I _could_ have taken, and may have to take yet, and did not."

Professor McGonagall grimly nodded back and said, "I certainly hope that will _not_ become necessary."

"As do I," said Harry. "However, I will not flinch in carrying out my _sworn duty_ to my Protectee."

With a resigned nod, she said, "Right now I must interview Mister Malfoy. I _trust_ I will be able to find you in the Ravenclaw common room if I need to speak with you again on this matter tonight?"

"Yes, Professor," he replied. He had wanted to go and visit Daphne and the other girls for the rest of the night, but knew he couldn't go there now that Malfoy was in there."

As she and Professor Flitwick left to go to the infirmary, Harry turned to his friends and said, "If you three have the chance to visit the infirmary tonight, can you - you know."

"Yeah, Harry," said Neville. "We can."

"I'd best hie off to the Ravenclaw common room, then," he said. "Good night."

"Good night," said the other three, plus a few others, especially Gryffindors.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	42. Outing a Fraud

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Two – Outing a Fraud**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

In the common room, one of his housemates was just starting on getting into bollixing him out for losing them one hundred points as he walked in through the door, when Harry flared his magic and glared back at the Fourth Year. Parchment and other loose objects in about a twenty foot radius of him leapt into the suddenly swirling air as his magic poured out of him.

The Fourth Year rapidly dove out of the way in fear and intelligently kept his mouth firmly shut.

Harry continued to glare at the older boy as he allowed his magic to quickly subside. "_Do not_ allow yourself to continue thinking you are permitted to speak to me that way," he quietly said.

Harry continued to glare at the boy for another few moments before he walked off down the passageway to his dorm room.

Behind him, he heard a Sixth Year Prefect say, "Wilson? You're an idiot. We had _no_ chance of winning the House Cup, so the loss of points was irrelevant. And, for what the student body - this House included - has put that boy through for the past eight months; I think we can allow him to lose his temper about it, don't you?"

Harry quickly collected a reasonably long roll of parchment, usually used for long assignments, ink and a couple of quills, and brought them back to the common room. Finding himself a vacant study carousel - a rare commodity this time of year - he took seat and placed his stationary on the desk before him.

Getting comfortable, he closed his eyes and set about laying out in his mind what he wanted to write. A great way to not waste parchment, ink and quills.

When he was ready, he took care and began to write in as legible a hand as he could. This would not be about speed in getting the information down. This was about making the information easy to read. And he was taking his time with it.

_The Truth About the Published Works  
of the Fraud Known as Gilderoy Lockhart_

He included it all. He gave page references in each of the books Lockhart forced them to purchase through the school booklists, plus _Magical Me!_, where the information conflicted. Using the House library he looked up each method of defeating the 'evil' Lockhart was supposed to have used and, where the result was not possible, identified why.

Then he started on how 'Roy E Gild' was 'Gilderoy'. And how Gild was the author of the so-called factual stories of the life of Harry Potter. Of course, the House library had more than one full set of those books donated by previous students, from which he could reference.

With room to spare, he moved on to the life of Lockhart, including his Hogwarts OWL results. Lockhart did not sit his NEWTS, as he did not receive a single Outstanding and only two Exceeds Expectations in Muggle Studies and Divination.

Harry grinned when he remembered Cygnus's note with that information within it. And what Cygnus wrote in his own words. His disgust was quite clear.

He wrote about how no record existed for the man's claimed Order of Merlin, Third Class. And that the Dark Force Defence League only existed on parchment. Parchment which stated Lockhart had set the organisation up, himself.

Another piece of information Cygnus sent him, by way of Sirius, was that the records of competitors of the Dunstable Duelling Championship did not show the name 'Gilderoy Lockhart', 'Roy E. Gild' or even 'Roy Gild' in their past twenty-five years; since Lockhart left Hogwarts. So, he included that.

While he had been writing he was visited by Professor Flitwick, who informed him the punishment assigned by Professor Snape for him had been overturned and no further punishment would be levelled against him. Also, that Malfoy had received a stern lecture from Professor McGonagall complete with the warning that he, Harry, was well within his right to just kill him; and that was precisely what he, Harry, had promised to do if it happened again. And, that Malfoy was having the one hundred points taken off _Slytherin_ House, together with the detention with Filch for the remainder of the school year, since that is what Professor Snape considered a valid punishment.

The fact Professor Flitwick said she said it in _front_ of Professor Snape, without even glancing at the man, amused Harry as much as it seemed to amuse Professor Flitwick.

Returning to his written rant, he questioned why Dumbledore would hire such a man for the important post of Professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts, when he was clearly unsuited for the role. And that Dumbledore had clearly failed in his duty of care to the school by vetting Lockhart's application for the post.

And, finally, he recommended everyone keep their Lockhart and Gild books - instead of burning them - return them _by hand_ to the bookshops from which they purchased them, and demand an unconditional refund.

His 'spleen' now well vented, Harry _almost_ packed away his things and went to bed.

He was going to make hundreds of copies of his written rant and leave a copy on each place at the four House tables and the head table in the Great Hall, very early the next morning. However, he felt his penmanship still showed through and would quickly identify him as the author. Instead, he pulled out his order form for Flourish & Blotts and found where it said he could order a dicta-quill. And ordered one to be owled to him.

Though it was late, Hedwig was out hunting. She immediately aborted her hunt and flew to the Ravenclaw tower. As apology, Harry handed the owl _two_ owl treats and let her finish them before attaching the order form to the owl's harness.

"There's no rush for this, Hed," he whispered to her. "Take your time flying to Diagon Alley and you can stay there until you're ready to return."

With a final kiss to her head he sent her on her way.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry spent almost the entire next day, Sunday, in the infirmary. And only left when Madam Pomfrey would shoo him out to get meals or just 'sunshine', since the snow was well and truly melted away and the days were warming up.

After spending time with Daphne, he'd move on to Tracey, then Hermione. And he told them all about what had happened the previous night. He told Daphne how he knew she'd be upset with him for losing his temper again, but hoped she'd understand why he did it, and that it needed doing.

To Hermione he said he knew how she'd berate him, even using his full given name, and how much it made him wince as he knew what it foretold. And that he knew he was going to be in a world of verbal hurt before she stopped yelling at him.

After lunch he went across to visit young Colin, who had been there the longest, and told him all sorts of things about what he had been up to. That the school no longer seemed to think he was the Heir of Slytherin, after eight very long months, and that he was trying to figure out what it was that had petrified him and the others, since no one else seemed to be doing anything of the sort.

He also told the boy how he was now sleeping near three very beautiful witches and that he'd better watch himself near them or he, Harry, would have to come and deal with him.

To Justin, he spoke about how he didn't even know he was a parselmouth until that night of a disaster known as the one and only duelling club meeting. He also told the boy he was pretty sure the beast was a snake of some kind because it was the emblem of Slytherin House; while people heard hissing coming from the walls, he'd heard speech of a sort; and that it was believed Slytherin's familiar was a king of snakes.

While speaking to young Colin he could see the boy's hands looked as if they were gripping something in front of his face. And that the boy had one eye closed and appeared to be peering through something.

He remembered back to Colin having a camera, carrying it with him everywhere he went, and how he would hold it. That was the same grip he saw of the boy's hands as he lay petrified in the bed.

When Madam Pomfrey came in on one of her rounds, he asked, "Madam Pomfrey, did Colin have his camera in his hands when he was found?"

"Yes, actually; he did," she replied. "Alb... The Headmaster managed to pry it out of his fingers. But when he opened it, it belched out acrid black smoke. The insides had been fried."

"Fried?" he asked.

"Well, melted. As if by a fire," she replied. "And now, you; time to leave again. There's plenty of sunshine out there for you to bask under."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry was spending what time he could with the girls, telling them about how life was progressing without them in it. It was a poorly kept secret where Harry and the other three were spending a great deal of their time.

But it was the return of Hagrid on the Monday that had the student body looking at him with a bit of awe, again.

As he, Neville, Susan and Hannah were sitting down for dinner on Monday night Hagrid came in through the main doors. That had the student body whispering to each other with excitement. Except for some of the Slytherins, of course.

Instead of heading directly to the head table, Hagrid sought out with his eyes, Harry. And, as soon as he spotted him sitting at the Hufflepuff table, headed straight to him.

Hagrid then reached out, lifted Harry out of his seat, and hugged him, firmly. Quietly, quietly for Hagrid that is, the big man said, "Thank you, 'Arry." And set him down on his feet.

Harry shook his head and said, "Not me, Hagrid; Professors McGonagall and Flitwick are who you need to thank. I just gave them a little verbal nudge to do the right thing."

"A verbal nudge. Is tha' wha' ya call it?" said Hagrid with a grin and twinkle in his eyes. "Well, I now 'ave me own lawyer an' ev'rything. He's promised me he's gettin' the 'ole ma'er abou' las' time, ya know, re-investi-gat'd, an' all."

"I'm happy for you, Hagrid," said a smiling Harry. "Good luck."

Hagrid patted him on the shoulder, nearly knocking him to his knees, and made his way to the head table. Professor McGonagall received the greatest shock when Hagrid reached out from behind her, and hugged her and her chair, together.

Professor Flitwick was lifted completely out of his chair and hugged, just as Harry was. But the Charms Master didn't seem to mind. Indeed, he looked happy for his rather large friend.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry's package from Flourish & Blotts arrived on the Thursday morning. Recognising what it would be, he didn't open it. Instead, he left it shrunk and dropped it into his pocket for later.

When the others asked him what it was, and why he wasn't opening it, he just said, "It forms part of the next and final step in the public destruction of the fraud known as Gilderoy Lockhart. And I don't want people in here to see it, lest fingers be pointed my way."

That afternoon, Harry grabbed his written notice concerning Lockhart, and joined the others in the Come and Go Room. Though he couldn't make much sense of the instructions on how to use the dicta-quill, Susan stepped in to help him out.

"My Aunt uses these all the time to take accurate statements from people," she explained. "I'm now used to them."

Taking what Harry had already written, she then dictated it to the quill. Everyone else remained silent as she read.

When she was finished, she deactivated the quill and set it aside. And everyone gathered around to see the results.

"Wow," said Neville. "That's pretty neat!"

"I'm impressed," said Harry. "The calligraphy is astounding. And, more importantly, no one is going to have a clue who wrote it."

"However," said Susan. "Anyone with experience of a dicta-quill is going to recognise the - _handwriting_ - if you will. If someone really wants to investigate who drafted this, they'd first go searching for the quill."

"They'd need evidence before they could search a student's trunk on the off-chance it was a student who did it," said Harry. "I think I made enough changes to my usual style of writing to throw them off the scent to come looking at me.

"Besides, my trunk is locked to my and Daphne's magical signatures. They'd have to destroy it to get in. I cannot see them doing that."

"Now that it's done, what do you want to do with it?" asked Neville.

"Make copies," replied Harry. "Make _hundreds_ of copies. I plan to sneak into the Great Hall, very early in the morning, and leave a copy of this at every place setting; including the staff. Any I have left over will be stuck with sticking charms to oft used doors, later."

"And then wait for all the fun as the students come in..." mused Hannah.

Taking out a whole stack of unused parchment Hannah and Susan then started to rip sheets into smaller pieces to be transfigured. As their two strongest in Transfiguration and the Copy Charm, Harry and Neville started making the copies. Once they each had ten, they then started to copy ten at a time.

After about the first half dozen times of doing this, Harry switched to hitting each small stack with a Permanency Charm so that they'd last for at least a couple of days.

After the first couple hundred, they had to stop. Though they were getting much better at drawing in and channelling magic, it still took a lot out of them. Besides, they needed to go to dinner.

However, straight after dinner, they were back in the Room to finish everything up.

Harry packed away his new dicta-quill, bundled the parchment and shrunk it. It all went into his bookbag.

A quick Tempus Charm and they saw they had a little while left before curfew, so decided to visit their friends in the infirmary.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, after his _very_ early wake up alarm, Harry donned his invisibility cloak, cast a Silencing Charm on himself, and hurried down to the Great Hall. Three quarters of an hour later, he was back in his dorm and in bed.

He waited until his dorm mates were up and moving before he rose again. Pretending he'd only just woken up, he went through his ablutions and took his time getting ready.

Then walked with a couple of other Ravenclaws down to the Great Hall. He was a little early, but that was planned. He didn't want he or his friends to be the first ones down, but he also wanted to ensure he got there early enough to catch if someone tried to collect all the notices.

He'd used a low-powered Sticking Charm to ensure one of the younger students didn't collect them all up, but it wouldn't have been beyond the teaching staff's ability.

Walking in, he saw the other three had already beaten him down and were sitting at the Gryffindor table. They were grinning like loons. However, it didn't stand out because that seemed to be the expressions on other faces. Some were scowling while they were reading, some had already finished reading and kept looking up at the head table. Lockhart's seat was vacant as he always liked to have an audience already in the Hall when he made a _grand_ entrance.

Most of the staff were already sitting down, and none of them seemed inclined to gather up all the notices.

However, both Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick noticed him entering. Both were slightly smiling back at him. Harry affected a mien of divine innocence and curiosity that seemed to fool them not in the least.

Sitting with his friends, Hannah made a show of showing him the notice. So, he tried to pick it up. When he couldn't he used his wand to cancel the charm on it, picked it up and proceeded to look as if he was avidly reading it.

In all the right places he schooled his expression to show the proper emotions and animatedly talked to his friends about it.

Looking around, he could see some of the students in small groups had their supposed DADA texts on the table before them, and were comparing the information within with what was included in the notice. And they weren't happy. They even started drawing small crowds of people around them, who were reading over their shoulders.

When the woodpecker finally made his entrance, the entire Hall went quiet. Everyone was glaring at him with some level of hostility.

A little worried about the reaction his entrance generated, he quickly took seat with an obvious artificial bonhomie and tried to engage the staff around him, including Professor Snape, in conversation.

Snape merely indicated the notice and offered him one he'd already removed the Sticking Charm from. Then sat looking at him with, scarily enough, a smile.

Harry and the others did not have to mask carefully watching the man as the entire Hall sat there in silence watching him. And some looked ready to kill him on the spot. Professors McGonagall, Flitwick, Sprout, Sinistra, Babbage and Vector all had their wands out and in plain sight, and were carefully watching the student body. The warning was obvious.

As soon as the fop started reading, he went white. Then passed from white to green.

After reading what looked like only the first couple of paragraphs, he suddenly stood up and bolted from the room out the nearest staff entrance, knocking his chair over in the process; his indigo and gold robes flapping behind him.

One wag, Harry didn't know who, called, "Goodbye, fraud!" just before the man reached the door.

Once he was gone, excited noise returned to the Hall.

Professor McGonagall stood and waited for the Hall to quieten down again. "It appears," she intoned. "Our - Professor Lockhart - has taken ill."

That earned her quite a few snickers.

"As such," she continued. "I believe Defence Against the Dark Arts classes, for at least the rest of the day, will be cancelled."

And that earned her a few cheers.

Turning to look at Harry, she said, "Mister Potter; do you know anything about this?"

The other three grinned at him as the entire Hall watched wondering what he'd do.

Harry slowly stood and stepped back over his bench seat before facing the head table. "Professor. I should be shocked and disappointed..."

"But, you're not," said one wag clearly enough from down the Gryffindor table, which earned _him_ a few snickers. And made even Professor McGonagall's lips twitch a bit.

"... that you would _imply_ such vile and baseless claims against me," he calmly continued, choosing to ignore the remark. "I would have you know, I suspect I have the alibi of my _own_ dorm mates; who may attest I was abed until after 7.00am, when I rose to attend my ablutions before hurrying down here; at such time arriving after you, yourself."

"Uh-huh!" said the Professor, clearly not believing him. "If it is discovered, by chance, you are responsible for this, I shall be forced to dock Ravenclaw House - One point. That is all." And sat down again.

Harry gave a slight bow before returning to his own seat.

The message was loud and clear to every one. Firstly, that she knew it was Harry who did it. Secondly, that they weren't going to be investigating. And, thirdly, that she was not upset with him for doing it.

A few moments later, Professor Flitwick motioned for the Acting Headmistress to draw closer. She leaned over to hear what he had to say.

"You noticed he did not deny it?" he muttered.

"Of course, I did," she muttered back. "The words he used we're quite specific. Should. Would have. May."

The Weasley twins, of course, immediately questioned Harry about how he did it. In response, and as a firm believer that sometimes a good defence is a weak offence, he accused _them_ of doing it and implicating _him_ as their scapegoat.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Outside of meals, on a couple of occasions, Harry went to the scene of the crimes of the other victims, usually taking Neville with him.

And since Flophart and most of his personal effects had disappeared since the previous Friday, with clear signs of a hasty departure, they also had the extra time of the two sessions of DADA free.

He found out from the Gryffindors where Colin was found, and stood in the same spot as if he had a camera in his hands. From there he then headed down to where he first saw Finch-Fletchley and had Neville stand where he knew Sir Nicholas to 'roughly' be. If he hadn't fallen over.

And, considering exactly how Justin was lying when Harry found him, Harry was able to get a pretty accurate idea of where he was standing, and in which direction he was facing.

"Alright," he said to Neville. "Sir Nicholas would normally float with his feet about two feet off the floor..."

Harry darted into the nearest classroom and came out with a normal class stool. He placed it where he believed Sir Nicholas would have been floating and told Neville to kneel on it, if he could. Gingerly, Neville complied. But, he still appeared to be uncomfortable.

"Alright," said Harry. "And Finch-Fletchley would have stood right here with his head just so; looking..." And found himself staring at Neville's chest. "Damn!" he exclaimed.

"What?" asked Neville, a little wobbly on the stool. "Hop down, Neville. And come standing where I am."

Neville moved to where Harry stood and facing the same way. And Harry went to the stool and kneeled on it.

"Alright, Nev," he said. "What are you looking straight at?"

"Your chest," frowned the boy.

"Okay, now what would you see if I was a silvery, somewhat translucent, ghost of Sir Nicholas's stature?"

Neville frowned and stepped a full pace to the left. "I'd be looking right through him and see straight down the corridor."

"Precisely," said Harry, a little excited. He hopped off the stool and pushed it a little out of the way before moving back to stand where the stool was placed. "Sir Nicholas was standing here. And Finch-Fletchley was standing..."

Neville took the pace back and said, "Here."

"... yes," said Harry. "The two meet coming from opposite directions. Sir Nicholas is a friendly sort, so he stops to have a chat; even if the student is from another House. And Finch-Fletchley is a 'Puff so..." and he shrugged. "So, they're having a chat. Finch-Fletchley sees movement, through Sir Nicholas, down the corridor, he gets petrified and topples over.

"Sir Nicholas, who looks you in the eye when he talks to you, sees the look of surprised shock pass over Finch-Fletchley's face right before he's petrified and topples. Knowing it has to be something behind him, and maybe even thinking whatever it was wouldn't harm him because he's already dead, _and_ he could discover the identity of the culprit for the staff, Sir Nicholas spins around to take a look for himself. And, whatever it is, petrifies him too."

"Wow!" said Neville. "You think?"

"Yeah, Nev," replied Harry. "I think."

After Harry returned the stool to the classroom, he and Neville started to make their way back to the Great Hall.

On the way, Harry continued with his thinking. "As Sir Nicholas got the full brunt, rather than a reflection or refraction it effected him more. He turned up black and smoky. According to Madam Pomfrey, black smoke is also what came out of young Mister Creevey's camera when Dumbledore opened it. She said the insides of the camera had been burnt.

"So, Mrs Norris saw - whatever it was - in the reflection of the water in the corridor. Colin saw it through the lens of his camera. Justin saw it through Sir Nicholas. And our girls saw it in the refection of the mirror.

"Now, Nev," said Harry, turned them both until they were facing each other. "Where were the girls before they ended up in that corridor with the compact mirror. What where they doing?"

Neville frowned in thought and said, "They said they were going to the library. Hermione said she had an idea what it might be..."

"Not 'who'?" asked Harry interrupting.

"Ummm..." frowned Neville before he looked back at Harry. "No. She definitely said 'it'. Because Hannah said, when they left, 'Don't they mean "who"?' and I remember that."

"Alright," said Harry, starting them walking again. "What happened then? Do you know?"

"Hermione said she had an idea what it might be, and she needed help looking through books of magical creatures," said Neville.

"The fact she had that mirror in hand means she, or they, figured it out and were on their way back to you three" said Harry. "Damn! I wish she'd had her bookbag with her. She's always writing things down."

"Well, she's holding a piece of parchment in her hand now, Harry," said Neville.

"What?" asked Harry, stopping them both again. "I thought she was holding a mirror."

"Her _other_ hand, Harry," he replied.

"The one she's got clenched against her middle?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," replied Neville. "You can just see the parchment sticking out the top of her - fist, I guess."

"We need that piece of parchment," declared Harry. "Straight after dinner you and I are going to the infirmary to get it."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The four immediately headed to the infirmary after dinner, and entered quietly. Madam Pomfrey wasn't on the main floor, so they suspected she was in her office or private quarters.

They quickly made their way to each side of Hermione's bed and Neville pointed to Hermione's left fist. "There. Do you see it?" he whispered.

"You're the strongest of us, Neville," whispered Harry. "You pull her fingers open and I'll ease it out; alright?"

Neville nodded and reached out with both hands to grip Hermione by the wrist and jamb his own fingers under her fingertips.

It was no easy task. Hermione's hand was clamped so tightly around the paper that Neville had to strain hard to get her fingers even a little open. Harry was gently pulling on the tip of the parchment, where it peeked out, and was sure he was going to tear it. While Neville continued to struggle, and the girls kept watch, Harry tugged and twisted. At last, after several tense minutes, the parchment came free.

It was a page torn from a very old library book. Harry smoothed it out eagerly, and Neville and the girls leaned close to read it, too.

_Of the many fearsome beasts and monsters that roam our land, there is none more curious or more deadly than the Basilisk, known also as the King of Serpents. This snake, which may reach gigantic size and live many hundreds of years, is born from a chicken's egg, hatched beneath a toad. Its methods of killing are most wondrous, for aside from its deadly and venomous fangs, the Basilisk has a murderous stare, and all who are fixed with the beam of its eye shall suffer instant death. Spiders flee before the Basilisk, for it is their mortal enemy, and the Basilisk flees only from the crowing of the rooster, which is fatal to it_.

And beneath this, a single word had been written, in a hand they all recognised as Hermione's. _Pipes_.

It was as though somebody had just flicked a light on in Harry's brain.

"Neville," he breathed. "This is it. This is the answer. The monster in the Chamber is a basilisk; a giant serpent! That's why I've been hearing that voice all over the place, and nobody else has heard it. It's because I understand Parseltongue..."

"The crowing of the rooster - is fatal to it!" Hannah read aloud. "Hagrid's roosters were killed! I remember the older students talking about it in our common room. The Heir of Slytherin didn't want one anywhere near the castle once the Chamber was opened!"

"But how has the basilisk been getting around the place?" asked Neville. "A giant snake - Someone would've seen..."

Susan, however, pointed at the word Hermione had scribbled at the foot of the page.

"Pipes," she said. "Pipes, Neville. It's been using the plumbing. And Harry's been hearing that voice inside the walls..."

"But this still doesn't tell us where the entrance could be found," said Harry. "And I, for one, want a piece of this thing."

"I, for one, am amazed Hermione actually ripped a page out of a book!" said Hannah.

"Focus; Hannah!" said Susan, before looking at Harry. "Harry, it's a bloody _basilisk_! We need to tell the staff!"

"That'll go down well, don't you think?" said Neville. "Excuse me, Professor? We know you're like seventy years old, and all; but, us four twelve year olds have solved the crime you and the rest of the staff have been scratching your heads about all year. It's a basilisk."

"And, no; we don't know where it is," continued Harry. "Nor, how to get into the Chamber, if that's where it's been hiding; why it's now woken up; how it managed to write words on the wall; if there is someone who's controlling it, who they are; or anything else, really."

"We won't be believed," said Susan, sadly.

"No," replied Harry with a sigh. "We're going to have to figure the rest of it by ourselves."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Now that they new the truth about what and - mostly - _how_ it was happening, they still needed to know who was behind it, and find the Chamber, or wherever the basilisk was being kept.

When they mapped out where all the attacks were taking place, it was easy to see they were all centred on the second floor, and near the passage where Mrs Norris was attacked. So, that was where they focussed their search. Each of them, from that moment on, carried a small hand-held mirror, and used it religiously to look around corners before moving from one corridor to the next.

They searched behind tapestries and suits of armour; they jiggled and wrenched upon wall sconces and torch brackets; they checked behind the various paintings; and they researched for, and used, various detection spells.

After almost two weeks, they were getting to the stage of searching individual bricks looking for whatever they could find. When others happened upon them in their search, they would stop and help for a while. However, with exams rapidly approaching, most students wanted to get stuck into revision work.

Harry had also ducked over to Hogsmeade the previous Wednesday - now that the day was completely free for him - and purchased two new roosters. Because he didn't feel confident in doing it, he found a witch who was willing to transfigure them into simple blocks of wood. She also did it in such a way that a simple Cancellation Charm, _Finite Incantatem_, would revert them back to roosters.

When she asked what he wanted them for - apparently worried he might be 'into' dark magic rituals - he told her that someone, or something, had killed all of Hagrid's roosters. She thought him a good boy for buying Hagrid two new ones. He simply did not tell her that was not why he bought them.

From then on, Harry had taken to carrying one block around in his book bag; and having Neville carry the other.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	43. A Little Chat

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Three – A Little Chat**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the final week before the Mandrakes were ready for harvesting the next Saturday - with the Mandrake Draught being ready the next day - Harry was finding himself getting quite anxious for his betrothed to be woken.

At lunch on the Saturday, Susan and Hannah came running in to the Great Hall to find Harry and Neville sitting opposite each other at the Ravenclaw table discussing quietly between themselves what they would tell 'their' three girls when they woke the next day.

Both girls quickly sat next to the boys, Susan next to Harry and Hannah next to Neville. Susan excitedly said, "Harry, you need to come and talk to Myrtle."

"Why?" he asked.

"Because, of all the places we searched around there, we _never_ searched the girl's bathroom," she said.

"Well, Neville and I wouldn't go in there, even _if_ it's out of order. It's a _girl's_ bathroom," said Harry. "Wait - you think the entrance is in _there_?"

"Yes," she said. "It occurred to me that Mrs Norris wasn't the first to be attacked - and she was attacked outside the girl's bathroom - it was _Myrtle_; even if it _was_ fifty years ago.

"So, I went in there to talk to her. It took a while, but she told me the last thing she saw before she died was two big yellow eyes surrounded by green skin!"

Harry and Neville looked at each other, gathered up their things, and trotted out with the girls following.

They headed straight for the bathroom before Neville said, "Wait! I need to go and get my block! Just in case, mind."

So, they detoured towards the Gryffindor tower.

As they were returning, a very worried Ron Weasley came running the other way. When he saw them he asked, "Neville! You haven't seen Ginny, have you?"

"Errr - No. Why?" asked Neville back.

"She's disappeared!" Weasley cried. "She tried to tell me and Seamus something she claimed was important earlier. And _Prat Perfect Percy_ chased her off. I haven't seen her since!"

"And she's not down in the Great Hall?" asked Harry.

"No; no one's seen her. Her dorm mates say she's been acting weird for _ages_; and - and I've not noticed," he suddenly shifted from very worried to frightened out of his wits. "Wh... what if the _monster_'s got her!"

"Calm _down_, Ron," scolded Neville. "You won't be any help to her, or even have half a chance of finding her, if you _flat_ out panic!"

"If we see her, we'll send her to the Gryffindor common room, alright?" said Hannah.

The redheaded boy nodded and said, "Yeah, thanks." And trotted off, continuing on his way.

Still using their mirrors they made their way down to the second floor corridor. Between one corner and the next, Harry stopped and, with a look of understanding on his face, said, "It's young Weasley."

"What?" asked Neville.

"Young Weasley, Ginevra - sorry - _Ginny_ Weasley; she's doing it," he said.

"Why her?" asked Hannah.

"Because, over the course of the year, she's been looking more and more haggard," he replied. "Like she's carrying a great deal of stress. Like, maybe, she's possessed, or something."

"Well, that's hardly grounds..." started Susan.

"No," interrupted Harry. "I also remember her walking towards the second floor bathroom as if she was in a complete daze. Like she was a zombie, or something. I just _know_ I'm right. I can't explain it any other way."

"Let's go talk to Myrtle and see what we can do from there," said Neville.

The four continued to move down to the second floor corridor.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With a final mirrored look around the corner, the four entered the corridor with the entrance to the girl's bathroom. They walked towards the door and Hannah gave a little scream as they passed the message that was still scrawled on the wall.

Turning to look, Harry and the others saw there was now a new message underneath the first.

The Heir of Slytherin had left another message. '_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_'.

Susan suddenly grabbed Harry's arm. "Harry - _her_ skeleton..."

"I know," said Harry. "We need to talk to Myrtle."

Rushing in to the bathroom, they heard the ghost wailing in the end cubicle. With the girls leading they approached.

"Myrtle!" called Hannah. "_Myrtle!_ We need to talk to you."

There was a few moments before there was a big splash. Suddenly a ghost of a girl in old fashioned Hogwarts robes came through the stall door.

She looked at Hannah and asked, "Yes?" Before she turned and saw Susan, Harry and Neville. "What are _boys_ doing in here?"

"They're here at our invitation, Myrtle," said Susan. "We need to ask you a couple of questions."

"Well, you better make it quick," said the ghost with a bit of a huff. "I don't know when _she_'ll be back." She'd sneered on the word 'she'.

"She?" asked Harry.

With another huff, Myrtle replied, "The little red haired girl in Gryffindor robes."

"She teases you, or something?" asked Harry.

"No, she comes in and _hisses_ at the sinks over there!" she replied, pointing to a circular set of ceramic sinks in the middle of the floor away from the stalls.

"A red haired Gryffindor? The only one I know of is Ginny Weasley," said Neville. "It seems Ron was right to panic."

Harry turned to look and walked over to them, walking around them. "She hisses at them, you say?"

"Yes, _hisses_!" replied the ghost, affronted as if Harry dared to question if she was telling the truth or not. "It scares me," she continued in a little voice. "So I run back to my stall and hide."

"This means," said Harry, "I can't be the only Parselmouth in the school. The Heir of Slytherin's one, too. That's how _she_'s been controlling the basilisk."

"What're we going to do?" said Hannah. "Should we go straight to McGonagall?"

"Was she here a little while ago?" Susan asked the ghost.

"Yes," replied the ghost. "It must have been about fifteen minutes ago, or something."

"Give me a second," said Harry, before he ran out of the room.

He rushed over to the message and stuck the point of his left index finger into the scrawl of the second message. When he pulled his finger away, the tip was coated in a red, slightly sticky substance. When he smelled it, it gave off a faint coppery smell. Blood.

He ran back into the bathroom and said, "The message is written in blood. I doubt we have much time. Have a look around this sink-thing and see if you can see anything out of the ordinary."

The other three joined Harry at the sinks and were looking all over it. There seemed nothing out of the ordinary until Neville spotted something scratched on the side of one of the copper taps. It was a tiny snake.

"Here!" he called. "There's an engraving of a snake."

The other three gathered around and saw it.

"That tap's never worked," said Myrtle brightly as Neville tried to turn it.

"She hisses at it," mumbled Harry. §Chamber of Secrets§

"Woah! Harry," said Neville, stumbling back. "Give someone a warning before you do that."

"What does it sound like to you?" asked Harry.

"Hissing. Like a big snake," he replied. "I thought it must've been in here with us, now."

"Sorry," said Harry. "I didn't know. To me it sounds like normal talking but with added sibilance on the 'S's."

With a sigh, Harry stood up and the others followed. Moving back he said, "Alright, everyone. Back away. I'm going to try a few words to see if I can open it."

With the others standing away behind him, Harry focussed on the snake engraving. He was running through his mind what words to try when they were interrupted.

Echoing through the corridors came Professor McGonagall's voice, magically magnified. "_All students to return to their House dormitories at once. All teachers return to the staff room. Immediately, please._"

Harry wheeled around to stare at the others.

"Not another attack? Not now?" asked Susan.

"No, I think Mister Weasley has finally alerted the staff his sister is missing," replied Harry. "Or someone else has seen the message outside."

"What'll we do?" asked Hannah. "Go back to our dormitories?"

Frowning, he replied, "No. I'm going to continue to try and get this hidden entrance, if that's what it is, open." Looking at the others he said, "Hannah, Susan, please go to the staff room and let Acting Headmistress McGonagall know where we are; and why.

"Neville, I'm going to get this entrance open. When I do, are you still willing to follow me down?"

Bracing himself up, the other boy replied. "I meant what I said, Harry. Where a Potter goes, a Longbottom will be with him."

"Be safe!" said Hannah, before the two girls ran out of the bathroom.

"Good man," said Harry to Neville. He then reached into his bookbag and pulled out his mirrored sunglasses. Using a spare scrap of parchment he copied the scrap into a matching pair of glasses, and offered them to Neville.

"I don't know how well they're going to work, but I think they may stop the basilisk from killing you," said Harry. "However, you will probably still end up petrified."

Neville nodded and accepted the glasses.

Harry turned back to the sinks and started calling words, §Entrance - entry - move - secret - secrets - sesame - open...§

Except words weren't what he heard. He was making a strange hissing sound. On the hiss for open, the tap glowed with a brilliant white light and began to spin. Next second, the sink began to move; the sink, in fact, sank, right out of sight, leaving a large pipe exposed, a pipe wide enough for a man to slide into.

Harry heard Neville gasp. He already knew what he was going to do.

"I'm going down there," said Harry.

He couldn't _not_ go; not now they had found the entrance to the Chamber; not if there was even the faintest, slimmest, wildest chance that the Weasley girl might be alive.

"_We_ are going down there," said Neville.

Harry dropped his wand into his hand and lowered himself slowly into the pipe. With a muttered, "_Lumos!_" he let go.

It was like rushing down an endless, slimy, dark slide. He could see more pipes branching off in all directions, but none as large as theirs, which twisted and turned, sloping steeply downward, and he knew that he was falling deeper below the school than even the dungeons. Behind him he could hear Neville, thudding slightly at the curves.

Just as he had begun to worry about what would happen when he hit the ground, the pipe levelled out. He shot out of the end with a wet thud, landing on the damp floor of a dark stone tunnel large enough to stand in.

Harry stood aside as Neville came whizzing out of the pipe, too.

"We must be miles under the school," said Harry, his voice echoing in the black tunnel.

"Under the lake, probably," said Neville, squinting around at the dark, slimy walls.

Harry cast a quick Cleaning Charm on them both.

"Thanks, Harry," muttered Neville, not really paying attention.

"Come on," Harry said.

With a call of "_Lumos!_" from Neville, the two boys advanced down the stone tunnel, their footsteps slapping loudly on the wet floor.

The tunnel was so dark that they could only see a little distance ahead. Their shadows on the wet walls looked monstrous in the wand light.

"Remember," Harry said quietly as they walked cautiously forward, "any sign of movement, close your eyes right away."

But the tunnel was quiet as the grave, and the first unexpected sound they heard was a loud crunch as he stepped on what turned out to be a rat's skull. Harry lowered his wand to look at the floor and saw that it was littered with small animal bones.

Trying very hard not to imagine what the Weasley girl might look like if they found her, Harry led the way forward, around a dark bend in the tunnel.

"Harry - there's something up there…" said Neville hoarsely, grabbing Harry's shoulder.

They froze, watching. Harry could just see the outline of something huge and curved, lying right across the tunnel. It wasn't moving.

"Maybe it's asleep," he breathed, glancing back.

Harry edged forward, his wand held high.

The light slid over a gigantic snake skin, of a vivid, poisonous green, lying curled and empty across the tunnel floor. The creature that had shed it must have been twenty feet long at least.

"Blimey," said Neville, weakly.

"Yeah," said Harry, his heart beating in his chest. "That's big."

After looking at it for a few moments more, Harry said, "Come on. We need to find the girl." And continued to lead the way.

The tunnel turned and turned again. Every nerve in Harry's body was tingling, unpleasantly. He wanted the tunnel to end, yet dreaded what he'd find when it did.

And then, at last, as he crept around yet another bend, he saw a solid wall ahead on which two entwined serpents were carved, their eyes set with great, glinting emeralds.

Harry approached with Neville right behind, his throat very dry. There was no need to pretend these stone snakes were real; their eyes looked strangely alive.

He could guess what he had to do. He cleared his throat, and the emerald eyes seemed to flicker.

§Open,§ said Harry, in a low, faint hiss.

The serpents parted as the wall cracked open, the halves slid smoothly out of sight. The boys, both shaking from head to foot, walked inside.

They were standing at the end of a very long, dimly lit chamber. Towering stone pillars entwined with more carved serpents rising to support a ceiling lost in darkness; casting long, black shadows through the odd, greenish gloom that filled the place.

His heart beating very fast, Harry stood listening to the chill silence. Could the basilisk be lurking in a shadowy corner, behind a pillar? And where was the girl?

Cancelling the Light Charm, Harry quietly said, "I think there might soon be a need for the glasses and roosters, Nev. Hold the block ready in your left hand, just in case." Following his own advice he donned his glasses and reached in to his own bag to draw out the block of wood, shifting it to his left hand.

Then he moved forward between the serpentine columns. Every careful footstep echoed loudly off the shadowy walls.

He kept his eyes narrowed, ready to clamp them shut at the smallest sign of movement. The hollow eye sockets of the stone snakes seemed to be following him. More than once, with a jolt of the stomach, he thought he saw one stir.

Then, as he drew level with the last pair of pillars, a statue as high as the Chamber itself loomed into view, standing against the back wall.

Harry had to crane his neck to look up into the giant face above. It was ancient and monkeyish, with a long, thin beard that fell almost to the bottom of the wizard's sweeping stone robes, where two enormous gray feet stood on the smooth Chamber floor. And between the feet, facedown, lay a small, black-robed figure with flaming-red hair.

Harry indicated the girl to Neville. Staying alert, the two hurried to the girl. Neville resheathed his wand, knelt and shook the girl's shoulders; then turned her over. Her face was white as marble, and as cold, yet her eyes were closed, so she wasn't petrified.

"Ginny, please wake up," Neville muttered desperately, shaking her. Ginny's head lolled hopelessly from side to side.

"She won't wake," said a soft voice.

Harry spun around with his wand at the ready as Neville did the same from his kneeling position; his wand shooting from his holster.

A tall, black-haired boy was leaning against the nearest pillar, watching. He was strangely blurred around the edges, as though Harry were looking at him through a misted window.

"I don't recognise you," said Harry. "But, I suspect. Slytherin robes, mid century styling, Prefect badge. Tom Marvolo Riddle, right?"

"Ah! I see you've heard of me," said the boy.

"What do you mean, she won't wake?" asked Harry, changing the subject. "She's not dead, is she?"

"She's still alive," said Riddle. "But, only just."

Harry stared at him. Tom Riddle had been at Hogwarts fifty years ago, yet here he stood in his Slytherin uniform, a weird, misty light shining about him, not a day older than sixteen. And he had the Weasley girl's wand in his hand.

"Are you a ghost?" Harry said uncertainly.

"A memory," said Riddle quietly. "Preserved in a diary for fifty years."

He pointed toward the floor near the statue's giant toes. Lying open there was the little black diary. For a second, Harry wondered how it had got there - but there were more pressing matters to deal with.

"_Bullshit_," said Harry. "Memories are not interactive."

Riddle smiled back. "Quite. No, it is far more than the memories you probably know as misty silver strands. This is _far_ more."

"Well, do get on with it," drawled Harry. "I'd like to get back in time for dinner."

"I've waited a long time for this, Harry Potter," said Riddle. "For the chance to see you. To speak to you."

"Look," said Harry, losing patience, "How did Miss Weasley get like this?"

"How did Ginny get like this?" he asked slowly. "Well, that's an interesting question," said Riddle pleasantly. "And quite a long story..."

"Just the executive summary will do, then," Harry interrupted.

Ignoring him, Riddle continued, "I suppose the real reason Ginny Weasley's like this is because she opened her heart and spilled all her secrets to an invisible stranger."

"What are you talking about?" said Harry.

"The diary," said Riddle. "My diary. Little Ginny's been writing in it for months and months, telling me all her pitiful worries and woes. How her brothers tease her. How she had to come to school with second-hand robes and books. How..." Riddle's eyes glinted "... How she didn't think famous, good, great Harry Potter would ever like her..."

All the time he spoke, Riddle's eyes never left Harry's face. There was an almost hungry look in them.

"It's very boring, having to listen to the silly little troubles of an eleven-year-old girl," he went on. "But I was patient. I wrote back. I was sympathetic and kind. Ginny simply loved me. No one's ever understood me like you, Tom," he mimicked. "I'm so glad I've got this diary to confide in. It's like having a friend I can carry around in my pocket." Riddle laughed, a high, cold laugh that didn't suit him. It made the hairs stand up on the back of Harry's neck.

"If I say it myself, Harry, I've always been able to charm the people I needed. So, Ginny poured out her soul to me. And, her soul happened to be exactly what I wanted - I grew stronger and stronger on a diet of her deepest fears, her darkest secrets. I grew powerful, far more powerful than little Miss Weasley. Powerful enough to start feeding Miss Weasley a few of my secrets, to start pouring a little of my soul back into her."

"What do you mean?" asked Harry.

"Haven't you guessed, yet, Harry Potter?" said Riddle softly. "Ginny Weasley opened the Chamber of Secrets. She strangled the school roosters and daubed threatening messages on the walls. She set the Serpent of Slytherin on five Mudbloods, and the Squib's cat."

"Wrong," said Harry. "Only two muggleborns. The last three are all Heirs of some very powerful Houses. Two of them are purebloods."

"I know," said Riddle, a little angrily. "Of course, she didn't know what she was doing, at first. It was very amusing. I wish you could have seen her new diary entries. Far more interesting, they became. Dear Tom," he recited in a little girl's voice, watching Harry's stoic face, "I think I'm losing my memory. There are rooster feathers all over my robes and I don't know how they got there. Dear Tom, l can't remember what I did on the night of Halloween, but a cat was attacked and I've got paint all down my front. Dear Tom, Percy keeps telling me I'm pale and I'm not myself; I think he suspects me. There was another attack today and I don't know where I was. Tom, what am I going to do? I think I'm going mad. I think I'm the one attacking everyone, Tom!"

Harry's fists were clenched, the nails digging deep into his palms. He heard Neville growl a little. At least Riddle seemed to be ignoring him.

"And, Ginny told me all about you, Harry," said Riddle. "Your whole fascinating history." His eyes roved over where the lightning scar once sat on Harry's forehead, and his expression grew hungrier. "I knew I must find out more about you, talk to you, meet you if I could. And now I have."

"When I had Hagrid expelled, Dumbledore kept an annoyingly close watch on me afterwards," said Riddle carelessly. "I knew it wouldn't be safe to open the Chamber, again, while I was still at school. But, I wasn't going to waste those long years I'd spent searching for it. I decided to leave behind a diary, preserving my sixteen-year-old self in its pages. So that, one day - with luck - I would be able to lead _another_ in my footsteps, and finish Salazaar Slytherin's noble work."

"Well, you haven't finished it," said Harry. "No one's died this time, not even the cat. In only a few more hours the Mandrake Draught will be ready to be brewed and everyone who was petrified will be all right again."

"Haven't you already guessed?" asked Riddle quietly. "Killing Mudbloods doesn't matter to me anymore. For many months now, my new target has been - you."

Harry stared at him.

"I knew what I must do. It was clear, to me, you were on the trail of Slytherin's heir. From everything Ginny had told me about you, I knew you would go to any lengths to solve the mystery - particularly if one of your best friends was attacked. And Ginny had told me the whole school was buzzing because you could speak Parseltongue.

"So, I made Ginny write her own farewell on the wall and come down here to wait. She struggled and cried and became very boring. But, there isn't much life left in her now. She put too much into the diary - into me. Enough to let me leave its pages, at last. I have been waiting for you to appear since we arrived here. I knew you'd come. I have many questions for you, Harry Potter."

"I don't care," Harry spat.

"Well," said Riddle, smiling pleasantly, "How is it that you, a skinny boy with no extraordinary magical talent, managed to defeat the greatest wizard of all time? How did you escape with nothing but a scar, while Lord Voldemort's powers were destroyed?"

There was an odd red gleam in his hungry eyes now.

"You want questions answered; but, I want one answered first," said Harry slowly. "What is the diary - really?"

Riddle just smiled and said, "I suppose I can tell you. After all, you and your friend - like little Ginny - will not be leaving this Chamber, ever again. It's called a horcrux, Harry."

"Thank you," Harry said. "To answer your first question, no one really knows. It is suspected my mother performed an illegal blood ritual, which was powered up by the sacrifice of her life. Then, when you tried to kill me, your curse backfired on you, killing you."

Before Riddle could say anything else, Harry said, "My turn. How many of these horcruxes did you plan on making?"

"Seven," said Riddle, proudly. "The most _powerful_ number in magic, for the most powerful wizard in the world."

"Sorry to disappoint you and all that, but the greatest wizard in the world is Albus Dumbledore," drawled Harry. "Everyone says so. Even when you _were_ at the height of your powers, you didn't _dare_ try to attack him directly. On the few occasions he was able to find you, you fled in terror."

The smile had gone from Riddle's face, to be replaced by a very ugly look.

"Dumbledore's been driven out of this castle by the mere memory of me!" he hissed.

"He's not as gone as you might think!" Harry retorted. He was speaking at random, wanting to scare Riddle; wishing, rather than believing, it to be true.

Riddle opened his mouth, but froze.

Music was coming from somewhere. Riddle whirled around to stare down the empty Chamber. The music was growing louder. It was eerie, spine-tingling, unearthly; it lifted the hair on Harry's scalp and made his heart feel as though it was swelling to twice its normal size.

Then, as the music reached such a pitch that Harry felt it vibrating inside his own ribs, flames erupted at the top of the nearest pillar.

Fawkes appeared, piping his weird music to the vaulted ceiling. Within his talons he was gripping a ragged bundle.

A second later, the bird was flying straight at Harry. It dropped the ragged thing it was carrying at his feet, then landed heavily on his shoulder.

The bird stopped singing. It sat still and warm next to Harry's cheek, gazing steadily at Riddle.

"That's a phoenix," said Riddle, staring shrewdly back at it.

"Fawkes?" breathed Harry, and he felt the bird's golden claws squeeze his shoulder gently

"And that..." said Riddle, now eyeing the ragged thing that Fawkes had dropped, "... is the old school Sorting Hat."

So it was. Patched, frayed, and dirty, the hat lay motionless at Harry's feet.

Riddle began to laugh again. He laughed so hard that the dark chamber rang with it, as though ten Riddles were laughing at once. "This is what Dumbledore sends his defender! A songbird and an old hat! Do you feel _brave_, Harry Potter? Do you feel safe now?"

Harry didn't answer. He didn't see what use Fawkes or the Sorting Hat were, but his courage was mounting.

"To business, Harry," said Riddle, still smiling broadly. "Twice - in your past, in my future - we have met. And twice I failed to kill you. How did you survive? Tell me everything. The longer you talk," he added softly, "the longer you stay alive."

"Nope," replied Harry. "I know everything I need to know now. You've no longer anything to bargain with."

Riddle's face contorted. Then he forced it into an awful smile. "So. Your mother died to save you. Yes, that's a powerful countercharm. I can see now - there is nothing special about you, after all. I wondered, you see. There are strange likenesses between us, after all.

"Even you must have noticed. Both half-bloods, orphans, raised by Muggles. Probably the only two Parselmouths to come to Hogwarts since the great Slytherin himself. We even look something alike. But, after all, it was merely a lucky chance that saved you from me. That's all I wanted to know."

Harry stood, tense, waiting for Riddle to raise his wand. But Riddle's twisted smile was widening again.

"Now, Harry, I'm going to teach you a little lesson. Let's match the powers of Lord Voldemort, Heir of Salazaar Slytherin..."

"You're not," interrupted Harry.

"What?" stuttered Riddle, thrown off balance.

"I said, you're not," replied Harry.

"Not what?" asked Riddle, annoyed.

"You are neither a Lord nor the Heir of Slytherin," replied Harry.

Angrily Riddle snarled, "I did my research, Potter. I traced my bloodline all the way back."

"I don't doubt it," shrugged Harry. "However, you got yourself _dead_. By law and by magic the Heirship passed on. You _know_ this." With a smirk of his own, he asked, "Do you want to know to whom?"

Riddle just stood there, almost trembling in rage. After a few moments he snarled, "Yes!"

After a few moments hesitation, enjoying Riddle's ire, Harry smirked, "Me."

Riddle glared back. His face, a mask of fury. Without another word, he strode away to stop between the high pillars and looked up into the stone face of Salazaar Slytherin, high above in the half-darkness. Riddle opened his mouth wide and hissed, §Speak to me, Slytherin; greatest of the Hogwarts Four.§

Harry wheeled around to look up at the statue, Fawkes swaying on his shoulder.

Slytherin's gigantic stone face was moving. Horror-struck, Harry saw his mouth opening, wider and wider, to make a huge black hole. And something was stirring inside the statue's mouth. Something was slithering up from its depths.

"Here it comes, Neville," he said to the other boy, where he kneeled next to the girl. "The basilisk!"

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	44. Basilisk Battle

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Four – Basilisk Battle**

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"_Neville!_" called Harry. "Leave her, for now. Get away from the statue and over here behind the pillars!"

Harry backed away until he hit the dark Chamber wall, and saw Neville get up and come running over. Just before he reached and took cover behind another pillar, himself, he felt Fawkes's wing sweep his cheek as he took flight.

Harry wanted to shout, "Don't leave me!" but, what chance did a phoenix have against the king of serpents?

Something huge hit the stone floor of the Chamber. Harry felt it shudder. He knew what was happening. He could sense it. He could almost _see_ the giant serpent uncoiling itself from Slytherin's mouth.

Then he heard Riddle's hissing voice, §Kill him.§

"Neville!" called Harry, to his friend. "It's coming for _me_! Got your block ready?"

The basilisk was moving toward Harry; he could hear its heavy body slithering heavily across the dusty floor. Eyes still tightly shut, Harry began to run sideways, not looking at the serpent. Riddle was laughing.

"Sorry, Harry!" said Neville. "I left it next to Ginny!"

Harry tripped at the words. He fell hard onto the stone and tasted blood. The serpent was barely feet from him and he could hear it coming.

There was a loud, explosive spitting sound right above him, and then something heavy hit Harry so hard that he was smashed into the wall. He dropped his own block of wood.

Waiting for fangs to sink through his body he heard more mad hissing, something thrashing wildly off the pillars. And the song of the phoenix from Fawkes.

He couldn't help it. He opened his eyes wide enough to squint at what was going on. And reached into his bag for his sunglasses.

His fingers found them, broken. The lenses broken into itty bits.

The enormous serpent, bright, poisonous green, thick as an oak trunk, had raised itself high in the air and its great blunt head was weaving drunkenly between the pillars. As Harry trembled, ready to close his eyes if it turned, he saw what had distracted the snake.

Fawkes was soaring around its head, and the basilisk was snapping furiously at him with fangs long and thin as sabres

Fawkes dived. His long golden beak sank out of sight and a sudden shower of dark blood spattered the floor. The snake's tail thrashed, narrowly missing Harry. And, before Harry could shut his eyes, it turned - Harry looked straight into its face and saw that its eyes - both its great, bulbous yellow eyes - had been punctured by the phoenix; blood was streaming to the floor, and the snake was spitting in agony.

§NO!§ Harry heard Riddle screaming. §LEAVE THE BIRD! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. YOU CAN STILL SMELL HIM. KILL _THEM_!§

Harry dropped down and picked up his block. He ran back the other way, back behind his original, now smashed, pillar. Bending down, he threw and slid the block across the stone floor until it hit Neville in the side of the foot.

The blinded serpent swayed, confused, still deadly. Fawkes was circling its head, piping his eerie song, jabbing here and there at its scaly nose as the blood poured from its ruined eyes.

"Nev!" called Harry. "It can't kill you with it's stare any more! Fawkes gouged out its eyes! The block's at your foot!"

The serpent's tail whipped across the floor again. It struck what was left of the pillar behind which Harry was crouched. Something soft hit his face.

The basilisk had swept the Sorting Hat into Harry's arms. Harry seized it. Not knowing why, he rammed it onto his head and threw himself flat onto the floor as the basilisk's tail smashed the rest of the pillar away.

The hat contracted, as though an invisible hand was squeezing it very tightly.

Something very hard and heavy thudded onto the top of Harry's head. He grabbed the top of the hat to pull it off and felt something long and hard beneath it.

A gleaming silver sword had appeared inside the hat. Its handle glittering with rubies the size of eggs.

§KILL THE BOY! LEAVE THE BIRD! THE BOY IS BEHIND YOU. SNIFF! SMELL HIM!§

Harry was on his feet, ready. The basilisk's head was falling, its body coiling around, hitting pillars as it twisted to face him. He could see the vast, bloody eye sockets, see the mouth stretching wide - wide enough to swallow him whole - lined with fangs long as the sword in his hand. Thin, glittering, venomous.

It lunged blindly. Harry dodged and it hit the Chamber wall. It lunged again, but Harry was already running off behind yet another pillar. He needed to lead the beast away from Neville so the other boy could get his rooster to crow.

When he heard Harry lead the serpent away, Neville bent down and picked up the block of wood. Popping his wand out of it's holster, he muttered "_Finite Incantatem!_" over it. As it changed back into a rooster, he swept the little hood it was wearing before being transfigured, off it's head.

He held his wand up, and muttered, "_Lumos Solem!_" And a bright light appeared above them.

The clucking the rooster had been making when it was transfigured back had begun to draw the basilisk to his location.

The basilisk lunged and struck the wall just to the side of the pillar. Just missing him.

Harry stepped out from behind his latest pillar and whistled. The beast spun about. Harry stood his ground and hissed, §I'm over here, stinky-breath!§

The basilisk lunged straight at him. Harry dived out of it's way, as it struck the wall of the chamber behind where he was standing.

Neville, stepped out from behind his pillar to see Riddle was staring, watching Harry.

"Come on, you bugger!" muttered Neville.

Suddenly, the rooster crowed! And it was a full-bodied crow.

The basilisk screamed and began thrashing about.

Riddle spun to stare at Neville, and screamed, "No!" He raised the wand in his hand.

Still with his own wand in hand, Neville prepared to cast a shield or dive out of the way.

Neville gave the rooster a little jiggle and it crowed again.

The basilisk screamed again and continued to thrash.

From the other side, Harry stepped out on the opposite side to where the serpent had already struck. He charged the now, barely moving, basilisk.

He whacked it once on the snout with the edge of the sword, but made no damage. Changing his idea, he drew the sword back like a spear, intent on thrusting the point between the beast's eyes.

Just as he was making his thrust the rooster crowed for a third time.

The basilisk suddenly tilted it's head back and opened it's mouth.

With the sword thrusting forward with all of Harry's might, it drove through the open mouth, through the roof of it's mouth, and struck through to the brain.

Harry was pulled forward with the initial thrust. His arm now within the serpent's mouth; his hand gripping the hilt.

The beast suddenly wrenched it's head; and Harry was flung away to land near the opposite wall. Near where Neville still stood.

As warm blood drenched Harry's arms, he felt a searing pain just above his elbow. One long, poisonous fang was left embedded in his arm.

He gripped the fang that was spreading poison through his body and wrenched it out of his arm. But he knew it was too late. White-hot pain was spreading slowly and steadily from the wound as he lay on the floor. Even as he held the fang in his hand and watched his own blood soaking his robes, his vision went foggy. The Chamber was dissolving in a whirl of dull colour.

"Neville!" he called. "It's dead!"

He heard Neville come hurrying over. He, again, held a wooden block.

A patch of scarlet swam past, and Harry heard a soft clatter of claws beside him.

"Fawkes," said Harry thickly. "You were fantastic, Fawkes."

Looking at his friend, who was looking back in shock and sorrow, he said, "Did you see, Neville? He was magnificent!"

"So were you, you bloody idiot!" croaked Neville.

He felt the bird lay its beautiful head on the spot where the serpent's fang had pierced him.

He could hear echoing footsteps and then a dark shadow moved in front of him.

"You're dead, Harry Potter," said Riddle's voice above him. "Dead. Even Dumbledore's bird knows it. Do you see what he's doing, Potter? He's crying."

Harry blinked. Fawkes's head slid in and out of focus. Thick, pearly tears were trickling down the glossy feathers.

"I'm going to sit here and watch you die, Harry Potter. Take your time. I'm in no hurry."

Harry felt drowsy. Everything around him seemed to be spinning.

"So ends the famous Harry Potter," said Riddle's distant voice before he laughed his high, cruel laugh. "In the Chamber of Secrets; defeated, at last, by the Dark Lord he so unwisely challenged. You'll be back with your dear Mudblood mother soon, Harry. She bought you twelve years of borrowed time. But Lord Voldemort got you in the end, as you knew he must."

'If this is dying,' thought Harry, 'it's not so bad. Even the pain was leaving him.' "Do us both a favour, won't you, Tom? Shut yer yap!"

But _was_ this dying? Instead of going black, the Chamber seemed to be coming back into focus. Harry gave his head a little shake and there was Fawkes, still resting his head on Harry's arm. A pearly patch of tears was shining all around the wound - except that there was no wound.

"Get away, bird," said Riddle's voice suddenly. "Get away from him, I said. Get away..."

Harry raised his head. Riddle was pointing the Weasley girl's wand at Fawkes. There was a bang like a gun, and Fawkes took flight again in a whirl of gold and scarlet.

"Phoenix tears," said Riddle quietly, staring at Harry's arm. "Of course - healing powers - I forgot."

He looked into Harry's face. "But it makes no difference. In fact, I prefer it this way. Just you and me, Harry Potter. I'm going to kill your friend Neville, here, first. You can watch him die..."

He raised the wand. But Neville was faster.

"With a flash of his right hand, Neville's hand - now holding his wand - shot up. "_Stupefy!_" he cried.

Riddle, as well as being struck by the spell, was sent soaring across the Chamber to slam into the wall on the opposite side. Neville had instinctively drawn in magic, and pumped the lot down his arm and out his wand.

In a rush of wings, Fawkes had soared back overhead and something fell into Harry's lap; the diary.

Harry sat up and looked at it. There, on the cover in gold letters, was the name T.M. Riddle. Wondering why the bird gave it to him, he looked at Fawkes where he landed just apart from them. Fawkes looked at the diary, then at the fang in Harry's hand, then back at the diary.

Riddle stirred over next to the wall. He rose to his feet and, staggering, slowly raised Weasley's wand. Neville hit him with another Stunner; sending his flying back into the wall, again.

Without thinking much about it. Harry seized the basilisk fang off the floor next to him, dropped the diary in it's place and plunged the fang straight into the heart of the book.

There was a long, dreadful, piercing scream. Ink spurted out of the diary in torrents, streaming over Harry's hands, flooding the floor.

Riddle, over near the wall, was writhing and twisting, screaming and flailing. He appeared to burn from the inside out. And disappeared in a flash of light.

Silence.

Silence, except for the heavy breathing of two young boys and the steady drip drip of water from the ceiling. The basilisk venom had burned a sizzling hole right through the diary.

Shaking all over, Harry started to try to rise. Neville quickly stood and softly said, "Here, Harry," offering his arm. Taking it, Neville pulled him up to his feet.

Harry's head was spinning as though he'd just travelled miles by Floo powder. Slowly, he gathered together his wand - which he immediately resheathed - the Sorting Hat and the diary with the fang still in it.

Neville walked over to the now motionless and clearly very dead basilisk and, with a huge tug, retrieved the glittering sword from the basilisk's mouth.

Then came a faint moan from the end of the Chamber. Young Miss Weasley was stirring.

As Neville hurried toward her, she sat up. Her confused eyes travelled from the huge form of the dead basilisk, over Neville with 'his' dirty great sword, over Harry in his blood-soaked robes, then to the diary in his hand. She drew a great, shuddering gasp and tears began to pour down her face.

"Harry - oh, Harry - I tried to tell you, but I c-couldn't! It was me, Harry - but I - I s-swear I d-didn't mean to! R-Riddle made me! He t-took me over - and - how did you kill that - that thing? W-where's Riddle? The last thing I r-remember is him coming out of the diary."

Neville knelt down next to the distressed girl, placed the sword down on the ground, and took her in his arms. "It's alright, Ginny," he soothed.

Harry held up the diary, showing the girl the diary with the fang through it. "Riddle's finished. Him _and_ the basilisk. Now, let's get out of here..."

"I'm going to be expelled!" the girl wailed as Neville helped her awkwardly to her feet. "I've looked forward to coming to Hogwarts ever since B-Bill came; and, n-now I'll have to leave and - w-what'll Mum and Dad say?"

Fawkes was waiting for them, hovering in the Chamber entrance.

Neville bent down and picked up the sword by it's hilt, and urged the girl forward. They stepped over the motionless coils of the dead basilisk, through the echoing gloom, and back into the tunnel. Harry heard the stone doors close behind them with a soft hiss.

Led by Fawkes, whose wide scarlet wings emitted a soft golden glow in the darkness, they walked all the way back to the mouth of the pipe.

"Have you thought about _how_ we're going to get back up this?" asked Neville.

"Nope!" replied Harry.

Fawkes was now fluttering in front of them. His beady eyes bright in the dark. He was waving his long golden tail feathers. Harry looked uncertainly at him.

"He looks like he wants you to grab hold..." said Neville, looking perplexed. "But you're much too heavy for a bird to pull up there."

With dawning realisation, Harry said, "Fawkes isn't an ordinary bird."

He turned to the other two and said, "We've got to hold on to each other in a line. Miss Weasley, grab Neville's hand and hold tight."

Harry took the sword off Neville and tucked it, and the Sorting Hat, into his belt. He continued to hold the diary with it's venomous fang attachment in his hand. "Grab a fistful of my trailing robes, Nev," he instructed. Neville took hold of the back of Harry's robes, and Harry reached out and took hold of Fawkes's strangely hot tail feathers.

An extraordinary lightness seemed to spread through his whole body and the next second, in a rush of wings, they were flying upward through the pipe. The chill air was whipping through Harry's hair; and before he'd stopped enjoying the ride, it was over. The three of them hit the wet floor of Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. The sink that hid the pipe was sliding back into place.

From lying flat on his back on the floor, Harry looked up to see Professor McGonagall staring back down at him - from an upside down perspective.

"Thank _Merlin_!" she said, clearly breathing an audible sigh of relief.

From where she was floating off to the side, Myrtle goggled at them.

"You're alive," she said blankly to Harry.

"There's no need to sound so disappointed," he said grimly to the ghost, standing up and helping the others up.

"Oh, well - I'd just been thinking - if you _had_ died, you'd have been welcome to share my toilet," said Myrtle, blushing silver.

"Well, that's very nice of you, Myrtle. Thank you," he replied.

"While I'm sure you'd enjoy a chit-chat with Myrtle, I'm afraid there are some people waiting for us in my office."

"Too bad!" said Harry. "_We're_ off to the infirmary. If anyone wants to talk to us, they can talk to us there. _After_ we've endured the loving ministrations of Mistress Pomfrey."

Turning to the other two, he said, "Right! Infirmary, you two - and me. Come along."

Professor McGonagall looked like she wanted to argue, but didn't. Instead, she stepped aside to let them pass, and followed until they were walking in the doors of the infirmary. She did not say a single word the whole - though, admittedly, short - trip.

As they were about to pass through the doors, she turned and walked away, muttering to herself.

Harry flung the doors opened and half-bellowed, "Madam Pomfrey!"

"_Mister_ Potter!" the medi-witch bellowed back, from her desk just inside the door.

Harry yelped and leapt aside.

Neville snickered while leading Young Miss Weasley inside.

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Harry had demanded the girl be seen to first and was explaining about the possession. "She's going to need to see a pretty competent mind healer to help her through what she's been through," he said.

Madam Pomfrey set her hands on her hips and glared at him. "Are you trying to do my job for me, Mister Potter?"

"No, Ma'am!" replied Harry, backpedalling a little. "I just don't want to see dear old Albus try to tell her parents she's fine and they've got nothing to worry about. She's _not_ fine, at all."

Madam Pomfrey got more of the story out of the girl before the doors were, again, flung open.

"_Ginny!_" It was, apparently, Missus Weasley.

Of course, the girl immediately burst into tears.

"Damn it!" barked Harry. "We're not _ready_ to see anyone, just yet."

Behind her came Mister Weasley, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, the Greengrasses, Sirius, Madam Longbottom and - unsurprisingly - Albus Dumbledore.

Neville found himself being swept into the woman's tight embrace. "You saved her! You saved her! How did you do it?"

She then came bearing down on Harry, who held his hand out in a fending off gesture, and barked, "_NO!_"

Missus Weasley seemed to hesitate between shock and anger at being spoken to that way, but skidded to a stop.

"The _reason_ why we're not ready to see anyone just yet is - for a start - I'm somewhat covered in the deadliest poison known to wizarding kind; I'm bearing, under my robes, a very sharp and very lethal weapon; and I have in my hand..." he said, waving around the diary, "... a combination of both. Any of which can kill you dead where you stand in seconds.

"Now, please; _back off_!"

"I think we'd all like to know how you saved Miss Weasley," said Professor McGonagall weakly.

"_Later_, Professor," said Harry. "Medical treatment first; explanations later. Miss Weasley, for starters, has been quite distressed and has gone through nine months of mental hell. She needs to spend time talking it through with a competent mind healer _before_ you all distress her any further. In the mean time, she needs to spend time with Madam Pomfrey and _none_ of you will interfere with that."

"Who do you think you are, young man?" Missus Weasley barked back. "I'm of a good mind..."

"_Shut it_!" barked Harry. "I happen to be one of two people who just _saved your daughter's life_! However, I will _not_ consider it finished saving until she's been _seen_ to by Madam Pomfrey and a mind healer."

"Molly!" growled Mister Weasley. "Back down! He's right."

"What do you mean 'poison', Mister Potter," asked Madam Pomfrey.

"_Basilisk_ venom," said Harry. "And, if you want to know how big..." He lifted the diary in his left hand and pulled the fang out with his right holding it aloft. "... It was _this_ big. This is the tip of one of it's fangs.

"And that's _part_ of what I meant by having sharp and deadly weapons on my person. The fang will still have venom within it. One, even tiny, scratch and you'll be dead before you can get help."

That had some of the adults talking; and Missus Weasley turning white as a sheet.

Harry placed the diary and fang on a close by patient's wheeled table. "And here's another," he said, reaching into his robes and carefully drawing the sword back out through his belt before holding it aloft.

More talking. Missus Weasley had to put her hand on a bed rail to steady herself.

"From where I shoved this up through the roof of the basilisk's mouth, I suspect it punctured a venom sack and became coated in basilisk venom in the process," he said.

Missus Weasley promptly fainted. With a few tsk'ing sounds, Madam Pomfrey levitated the woman and placed her on the bed alongside her daughter.

Harry then removed the Sorting Hat from his belt and placed it, brim down, on the same table. "_It's about time, Mister Potter_," said the Hat.

Harry ignored it.

"Now; once Madam Pomfrey's talked with Miss Weasley and has her settled in bed for the night - even I know she needs plenty of rest, Madam Pomfrey - I need her to take a look at my arm," said Harry firmly. "Then, Neville and I need to shower and change.

"Only then, will I _deign_ to answer any other questions. So, if you _quite_ enjoy standing around a hospital ward being quiet and watching patients being treated, then stay. Otherwise, leave us be until we, and Madam Pomfrey, consider ourselves ready to see you."

All of the adults except for Madam Pomfrey, of course, wisely chose to move away and go stand on the other side of the infirmary to stay out of their way.

Dumbledore tried to step forward, but when he said "Now, Harry, I really..."

Harry swirled his magic and growled at the man. Dumbledore wisely beat a hasty retreat.

Harry chatted to Neville a little, said, "Don't let Dumbledore try to use Legilimency on you, or try to convince you to remain quiet about this. He's just looking to cover his own incompetent arse."

He turned to the medi-witch and said, "Neville and I are going to leave you and Miss Weasley to talk until you're ready to see me."

Moving over to stand with the adults, Gran said to Neville, "I trust, Neville, that you do not have on your person any sharp and deadly objects?"

"Luckily for Missus Weasley; no, Gran," he replied.

And for the first time Harry had seen her, the stately lady enveloped her grandson in a firm hug.

"Any more on you, Harry?" asked Sirius.

"Yeah, on the right hand sleeve of my robes and my hands," said Harry. "I need to get the stuff cleaned off."

Dumbledore quickly conjured up a small stand with a large basin of warm soapy water in it.

"Thank you, Headmaster," he said, quickly dipping his hands within and doing his best to scrub them clean. The ink was another matter, though.

After he pulled his hands out - and accepted the offered conjured towel he was handed - Isabel, Cygnus, Gran and Sirius all stepped forward to give him a hug without going near his right sleeve.

"Alright," said Harry. "The full telling of this would take hours, because what you don't know about this started three full weeks ago, with the petrification of our loved ones." He indicated the three where they lay a short distance away. "So, we're going to give you the highlights."

When the adults didn't say anything he nodded and said, "Alright. As I said, this all started three weeks ago when Daphne, Tracey and Hermione were petrified. While he and I were in here - very soon after the girls were brought in - Neville and I made a pact."

With Neville adding a few important points, Harry then explained a little about their research, their physical search for the entrance, the gist of the physical manifestation of Riddle, Ginny's thrall, and their battle with the basilisk.

The adults were just starting on asking questions when Madam Pomfrey called Harry over.

"Besides being cranky," she said as he walked over, indicating he should lie down on yet another hospital bed. "What seems to be the problem with you?"

Harry reached down and pulled up the sleeve of his robe on the arm where he was bit. Getting them far enough raised to show the healed mark, he said, "Basilisk bite..."

Madam Pomfrey gasped and backed off a bit. "Mister Potter!" she yelped. "I should have seen to you first!"

That brought the Greengrasses, Sirius and Dumbledore over.

Harry glared at the old man and said, "This is a medical issue I wish to discuss with my magical guardians and godfather, Mister Dumbledore. Please back away and allow us our privacy."

Dumbledore looked somewhere between abashed and angry, but he did move away and return to stand with Professors McGonagall and Flitwick, Gran, Neville and Mister Weasley.

Harry, again, lifted his robe sleeve to show the basilisk fang bite.

"This is where the big green beasty bit me," he said. "The fang with the diary over there went right in there."

"Sweet Merlin!" gasped Cygnus. "Why aren't you dead?"

"Phoenix tears," replied Harry. "Apparently, phoenix tears heal bites and poisonings by basilisks. But, it was a close thing."

After Madam Pomfrey checked the bite over, she told him the scar would always remain but would diminish with time. Once she was satisfied the basilisk venom was no longer a risk in his system, she'd give him a cream that would help to eradicate much of the scar.

She also healed the wound inside his lip and cheek when he'd tripped over something in the Chamber, plus a couple of others he didn't know he had. During this, Dumbledore had left.

She released him to shower and change. But, instead, Harry went back across to the sword, fang and diary. He conjured a bag for the fang and diary, and used a piece of cloth to hold the hilt of the sword.

With the sword in one hand and the bag in the other, he walked back to Ravenclaw tower.

Students, again, leapt out of his way in fright or fear as he came towards them. However, this time, he was pretty sure it had more to do with his dirty and haggard appearance, and that he was carrying a bloody great sword, than with him being the supposed Heir of Slytherin.

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Walking into his dorm he dropped the sword, bag and his bookbag onto his bed. Then stripped off and took all three items into the bathroom.

There, he thoroughly cleaned the sword and fang and did his best to wipe all the dried venom off the cover of the diary. And gave himself a thorough scrub down.

Returning to his bed, he opened his trunk and pulled out a decent set of lightweight clothes that were stylish and smart.

Thinking for a moment, he called, "Petey!"

The little elf popped into the dorm room. "Yes Ma... Harry?"

Holding the sword and fang out, he said, "Can you please be very careful with the edge on this blade and the fang because both are very sharp and have recently had poison on them, and take them to Potter Manor, leaving them on the desk?"

"Yes, sir, Harry," the little elf said before popping away with both items.

Harry then picked up the diary and returned to the infirmary. Like Dumbledore earlier, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick were also gone. Mister Weasley was now standing alongside the bed of their daughter, with his now enervated wife on the opposite side.

The Greengrasses, Sirius and Gran were seeing to the girls. Gran was clearly waiting for a, now gone, Neville to return.

"I'm baaa-aack! Did you miss me?" he cheekily asked, walking over to stand alongside Daphne's bed.

He then earned himself another round of hugs. This time from Isabel, Gran, Cygnus and Sirius. He walked over to stand at the head of Daphne's bed, leaned down and kissed her on the lips. "I'm safe, sweetheart," he murmured to her. "You had nothing to worry about." Before moving on to greet the other two.

At Hermione's bedside he leaned in and kissed her of the forehead and said, "You did it, Hermione. You figured it out _weeks_ before Neville, I, Susan and Hannah did. And we have you and your research skills to thank for heading us in the right direction to find the Chamber."

"Errr - Harry?" said Sirius.

"Mmm?" he replied.

"You know they can't hear you, right?" his godfather asked.

"I know I've been _told_ they can't hear me," he replied. "But how many other people have there ever been who have been petrified by a thousand year old basilisk? And has given evidence to say whether or not they could hear, or otherwise understand, while being petrified?"

"Errr..." said Sirius.

Harry just grinned at him.

Mister and Missus Weasley approached and, with a very visible nudge from her husband, Missus Weasley said, "I apologise for trying to hug you earlier, Mister Potter. It is clear to me now I could have gotten us both seriously hurt or killed because you had those - items on your person at the time.

"However, now that I have calmed down from being a frantic mother, grateful her daughter had been rescued and was alive, may I give you a hug?"

Harry smiled and said, "Apology accepted, and yes."

With a beaming smile, Missus Weasley came forward and hugged him. Backing off just as it was becoming uncomfortable, she said, "Thank you, Mister Potter. My daughter is priceless to me and my family. If there's anything we can do for you, please, just ask."

"The only thing I ask - actually, I pretty much demand it," said Harry. "Is get Ginevra in to see a proper mind healer. She's going to need it."

Both Weasley parents blushed and looked down. Mister Weasley coughed and said, "We - that is, we can't..."

Understanding their embarrassment, Harry cut in and said, "As Neville and I saved her life, I hope you'll accept I don't want all that hard effort to go to waste. I'll organise a mind healer for her. You just need to make sure she goes to see him or her."

"We can't accept charity," said Missus Weasley.

"You said I was to tell you if there was anything you could do for me," he firmly said. "This is it. It will make me very happy if she receives proper mental care. Tom Riddle, the spirit that had her under thrall, told Neville and I what Ginevra had been writing in that diary. He bragged about how - pitiful - she sounded.

"I will not cause her further embarrassment by relaying it to you. But it was sufficient to convince me she _needs_ this. So, I'm going to pay for it. Alright?"

Molly looked like she was still going to refuse, but Arthur said, "Thank you, Mister Potter. I will ensure our daughter attends those appointments."

After a few moments hesitation, Missus Weasley said, "There's one other thing."

"Yes?" he asked.

"Ginny wonders if she can talk to you for a while," she replied. "She wants to thank you."

"Of course," said Harry.

He walked over to where the girl was lying on her side looking absolutely miserable.

He grabbed a stool and placed it on the side she was facing and sat down on it. "Hey, you," he greeted her.

Ginevra burst into tears again, so Harry stood and bent over the bed, wrapping the girl in a hug. "I'm _sooo_ sorry," she sobbed. "I nearly got everyone killed. I nearly got you, the famous Harry Potter, killed. I..."

"Ginevra - _Ginny!_ - Stop," said Harry. Once the sobbing subsided, he moved her back to lying in the bed and retook seat on the stool. "_You_ are an eleven year old girl who was tricked by a magical device designed to do exactly what it _almost_ did to you. You didn't really stand a chance."

"But he was such a _nice_ boy at first," she said. "I trusted him. It wasn't until it was too late I found out he was also - Voldemort."

Harry heard the Weasley parents gasp. And thought he heard others.

"I know," said Harry. "That is, or was, Voldemort's greatest power. When he wanted to, he was able to charm anyone out of practically anything. And that includes some of the wisest witches and wizards out there.

"He has practically everyone else - but not you and me - convinced he is a pureblood. But we know the truth, don't we?"

With a bare hesitation she nodded.

"No, we know he is only a half-blood," he continued. "And that he's _lied_ to everyone else, about who he really is. We know Voldemort's real name is Tom Marvolo Riddle."

She nodded again.

She suddenly said, "Thank you for saving my life!" And blushed before turning away.

"You are most welcome," he replied. "But please remember that Neville Longbottom was also part of that. It was _he_, who had the rooster to crow. And, it was _he_, who sent the one who calls himself Voldemort flying across the Chamber with an overpowered Stunning Charm when he was about to kill me. And he did it, twice. So, you should think about saying that to him too, alright?"

She nodded and said, "Alright."

"Good," he said. "Now, there's something you can do for me over summer. It's not a big thing, but it is an important thing. Alright?"

"Alright," she replied, looking a little happier.

"To help you overcome the terrible year you've just had here at Hogwarts, your parents are allowing me to have you speak to someone about whatever is bothering you," he said. "So, whatever you were writing in that diary, you can now talk about with a real person who will _really_ help you, rather than tell you lies like Riddle did.

"What I want you to do is write to me, as often as you like, over summer and tell me about both how those visits go - and how much you're enjoying your summer - alright?"

"I can do that," she said.

"Thank you," he replied with a smile. "Now, if you will excuse me, Miss Weasley, there are other people demanding of my time today. I have yet to see Susan Bones or Hannah Abbott, and I expect they will want to kick my and Neville's _bums_ for not coming and seeing them as soon as we brought you out of the Chamber, to let them know we were alright."

"Alright, Harry; thank you," she smiled.

With a nod and smile in return, Harry gave her hand a gentle squeeze and went to move away. Suddenly, he stopped and moved back. "One last thing, Ginny," he said, with his face showing curiosity. "Where on earth did you find that diary?"

"It was in with my books when we got home from shopping for school supplies," she said.

"In?" he asked.

"Yeah, it was inside another book," she said. "A second hand one my parents were able to buy for me."

"Was it your Transfiguration book?" he asked.

"Umm - Yeah," she said. "How'd you know?"

"You can think of it as just a guess," he replied. "Now I've _really_ got to go." He smiled and moved away.

'Lord Malfoy. In the bookshop. With the Transfiguration Book,' thought Harry. 'Gotcha! And that explains Dobby.'

He returned to the adults to find Neville had returned and was dressed neatly in everyday 'casual' wizarding robes without the outer robe.

"Is it dinner time yet?" asked Harry, rubbing his hands together. "Slaying a thousand year old basilisk has managed to make me build up an appetite."

Neville snorted. "Only you, Harry; would make such a remark," he said.

Turning to the adults, he asked, "I hope you're willing to join us for dinner? I'd like you to see what happens, here, when a Potter and Longbottom enter the Great Hall."

"Me?" stammered Neville. "I think you mean _you_, Harry."

"Not any more, Nev," disagreed Harry. "You just slayed a thirty-plus foot long thousand year old basilisk one moment, and crossed wands with Voldemort, kicking his arse, the next. Twice!"

Gran gasped.

"Oh!" said a surprised Neville. "I did, didn't I?"

Harry grinned and one-arm hugged his mate.

The adults smiled, looked at each other, and Cygnus said, "As long as you're inviting us, why not?"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	45. Getting Told Off

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Five – Getting Told Off**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With the adults following, Neville and Harry walking side-by-side into a now full Great Hall. As expected, the entire Hall went silent.

"See?" said Harry over his shoulder.

Walking forward, Harry was looking around for where they'd be sitting, when they saw Hannah and Susan rise from their seats at the Hufflepuff table and come running over.

Susan grapple-hugged Harry while Hannah did the same with Neville. "You bloody idiots!" said Susan, softly. Then the girls switched.

Sirius, ever the wag, called out, "Yes, yes. It is _I_, Lord Sirius Black, the ever-lovable."

Looking up at the head table in the silent hall, Harry called, "Headmaster, do we have room at table for a few guests?"

The old man smiled and magnanimously said, "Of course, Mister Potter."

With a girl under an arm each, Neville and Harry walked over to the Hufflepuff table. They quietly made room for the extra six of them.

Once they were all sitting, and the noise of conversation renewed, Harry leaned over to his Godfather and said, "The whole Hall going silent like that when we enter is what's been happening all year."

"When _you_ enter, Harry," corrected Neville.

"Not any more, Nev," replied Harry with a grin. "Expect your name to now be, 'Neville Longbottom, basilisk slayer'. And when we enter a room, it'll be, 'Hey, there's Neville Longbottom and his friend Harry'."

Gran sat up, proudly.

As the meal wound to a close, one of the younger 'Puffs finally gathered up their courage and asked Harry, "You really went into the Chamber of Secrets?"

Clearly, Susan and Hannah had been talking with their housemates, at least.

"Yes," he replied.

"What was it like?" asked the 'Puff.

"Big. Damp. Dimly lit by torchlight. And scared the _whoopees_ out of the both of us," he replied with a bit of a shrug.

Neville snorted and said, "Got that right."

Harry could see those within hearing distance of what he said had gone quiet to listen.

"It's a long room, with pillars running down both sides just in from the walls. There's a snake motif going on, throughout. And, at the far end, is this huge stone statue of Salazaar Slytherin, himself.

"The entrance to the chamber, itself, has a huge stone door barring entrance. And requires parseltongue to open it."

"And the monster was a big basilisk?"

"Yeah. Neville effectively killed it. I just administered the final killing blow to make sure it was dead."

"How big was it?"

"Ummm – Thirty feet, I think." Turning to Neville he asked, "Hey, Nev?"

Looking back, Neville asked, "Yeah, Harry?"

"The basilisk," said Harry. "You had a better look at it than I did. How big was it really?"

"Ummm - about - thirty foot long, I think," he said with a shrug of his own.

"I just remember how big a mouth it had," said Harry. "The thing could have easily swallowed a person whole."

"The strength in it's body was pretty impressive, too," said Neville. "It smashed to rock-dust that pillar you were first standing behind. And left big smashed holes when it rammed the walls trying to get to you."

"But, who was doing it? Who first opened the chamber?"

"Hang on," said Harry. Turning to Neville he said, "You know, we're going to plagued with these questions over and over again. How about we just tell the story once to the student and staff body and get it out of the way?"

"Yeah," replied Neville, understanding. "That would be good."

Harry stood and looked to the head table.

As soon as the rest of the Hall recognised Harry was standing, it went silent again.

"Yes, Ha... Mister Potter?" asked the Headmaster.

"Headmaster," he said. "It has quickly become apparent to Neville and I that we will be near-forever plagued by questions about what happened this afternoon. May I have permission to address the student body to explain?"

"Errr - I don't think that would be wise..." he started to reply before be was cut off by Cygnus standing.

"Let the boys tell it, Headmaster," said Cygnus. "You know what he is saying is true."

With a sigh and exaggerated weary slump of disappointment, the old man said, "Very well. But, please make it quick."

"Thank you, Headmaster," said Harry before looking at Neville. "You, too. Come on."

Neville nodded and also stood. And both walked to stand in the area in front of the head table.

"Headmaster, I believe this will go a lot quicker, which is what you said you want, if we show this in a projector pensieve."

"Very well," said the old man, again.

Harry quietly called, "Petey," and the little elf popped in.

"Yes, Master Harry?"

Kneeling down he gestured the elf forward and whispered, "Can you get me my pensieve and a - plinth - for it to sit upon, please?"

The elf nodded and disappeared. A moment later it returned with what Harry asked for next to him.

"Thank you," said Harry, and the elf popped away.

Standing back up Harry turned to the student body and said, "Mister Longbottom, Miss Bones, Miss Abbott and I, with purpose, set about attempting to solve the year long mystery of why and how students were being petrified.

"We also decided to search for the so-called Chamber of Secrets, as the two issues appeared to be tied together. Many of you have come across us over the past three weeks while we were engaged in that search."

There were a few nodding heads among the students.

"Well, shortly after lunch, this afternoon, we found another message daubed onto the wall underneath the original one. For those who don't already know, it says, '_Her skeleton will lie in the Chamber forever_'.

"At that time we were headed for the haunted bathroom on the second floor. Miss Bones and Miss Abbott had the very clever idea to talk with the first victim - no, not Mrs Norris - Myrtle Malone; Moaning Myrtle. The girl killed when the Chamber was last opened, in May 1943."

Neville took it up. "With the message making it clear we were quickly running out of time, we spoke with Myrtle and she provided us with three very important pieces of information. One was the identity of the student opening the Chamber and bringing the beast up into the castle. The second led us directly to the hidden entrance. The third confirmed what we believed the monster to be. It was a basilisk."

That had quite a few gasps and talking from the students.

"But, a basilisk kills when it looks at you, not petrifies you," called one older Ravenclaw.

"Yes," replied Neville. "And solving why the victims were only petrified, and not killed, was _part_ of the problem."

"However, we did just that, too," said Harry. "We discovered none of the victims were caught in the direct gaze of the basilisk.

"Mrs Norris was drinking from the still water that was on the floor of the corridor. She saw the basilisk in the reflection off the water. Mister Creevey was looking through the lens of his camera. Mister Finch-Fletchley saw the basilisk through the misty form of Sir Nicholas. Sir Nicholas saw it direct but, as he's already dead, it only petrified him. And our three friends saw it through the reflection of a small hand-held mirror Miss Granger was holding in her hand at the time.

"None of the living caught the direct gaze of the basilisk. And that, of itself, is nothing short of a miracle."

"It will also interest you to know," said Neville. "That, from both their positions when they were found petrified, _and_ by a note held in Miss Granger's hand at the time, the three of them had only just figured out that the monster was a basilisk. That is why they were looking around corners using a hand mirror before actually _walking_ around the corner."

"It took me using parseltongue to open the entrance, which is magically sealed," said Harry. "So, you can forget about trying to do it yourself. We sent Hannah and Susan to Professor McGonagall with what information we had; in case we didn't come back.

"Neville and I had already, by this time, taken to carrying around a transfigured rooster each. They were transfigured into two ordinary blocks of wood. It is known that the crow of a rooster will kill a basilisk.

"So, armed with a transfigured rooster each, our wands, and a pair each of special mirror surfaced sunglasses - that should have only seen us petrified rather than killed by the basilisk's gaze..." Harry held up his own pair, "...Neville and I went down the secret passage to the Chamber."

"After quite a while of carefully walking," said Neville, "we came upon a great stone door. Again, Harry had to use parseltongue to open it. And we entered.

"We carefully made our way down the length of the Chamber and found the unconscious body of a girl lying at the feet of a great stone statue of Salazaar Slytherin, himself."

"With me standing guard," continued Harry, "Neville tried to rouse her. He could not. And, no, I'm not going to say who it was, just yet, because she is pretty much blameless for what happened. The student was being held in thrall by a magical artefact, and was acting outside of her own control. Think of it as another form of the Imperious Curse; but much, much worse.

"There was the - essence? - of another student there, until that time hidden. That student you've heard me name before. His name was Tom Riddle."

"Mister Potter!" exclaimed Dumbledore, as the students whispered among themselves.

"You're _far_ too late, Headmaster," said Neville turning to him. "They _all_ already know of whom he's speaking. And _have_ known for three weeks."

Dumbledore looked very shocked and quite disturbed. But, he didn't say anything more.

Turning back to the students, Harry said, "That's right, folks. The _same_ student who dobbed in Hagrid for opening the Chamber of Secrets in 1943, is the _same_ one who opened it _this_ time. So, no doubt you can figure out who _actually_ opened the Chamber last time, yes?

"Spirit-Tom and I exchanged words, while Neville tried to help the unconscious student. And, like all megalomaniacs, Tom liked to talk about how great he was. Then, once he finally shut his _yap_, he called forth the basilisk using parseltongue. Here's what happened from there."

Harry then concentrated on the memory of the battle, up to them leaving the Chamber, and used his wand to withdraw the memory. He dropped it into the basin of the pensieve and tapped the rune to make it project in the space above.

As soon as it started, he enlarged it and enhanced the sound, so everyone could watch and hear. He and Neville moved off to the side.

During the playing of the memory the students gasped, shrieked and gasped again in all the right spots. When Riddle identified himself as Voldemort while waiting for Harry to die, they received the biggest shrieks and gasps of the showing.

When it finished, Harry withdrew the memory and dropped it into one of his ever ready phials. Then he called Petey to take the pensieve back to Potter Manor.

While he was doing that, Neville looked at the students and asked, "Any questions?"

Everyone was looking at him and Harry in awe. And not the normal kind, either. It was an awe of outright fear and respect.

"Errr..." said a Gryffindor, "Tom Riddle was really V-V-_Voldemort_?"

That earn yet more gasps and shrieks.

"No," replied Harry. "It would, however, be correct to say Voldemort..." more gasps, "... is actually really named Tom Marvolo Riddle."

Most on the Slytherin table were looking most unhappy about what they heard.

"Mister Potter!" roared Dumbledore.

"Oh, give it a _rest_, please, Headmaster?" snarked Harry, turning to the old man. "_Stop_ trying to keep it a secret! The truth will set you free; and, in this case, the truth will set you free of the unjustified fear of the man!"

Turning back, Harry said, "Tom Marvolo Riddle was born the son of a near-squib witch named Merope Gaunt, and Tom Riddle, a _muggle_ - not a muggleborn - a muggle; one with no magic whatsoever. So, yes, folks, the one who's _false_ name frightens you so much you can hardly bear to hear it, is - or was - a half-blood."

And that _really_ upset the Slytherins.

"And Neville here - the person Mister Malfoy and his cronies sneeringly calls a squib - crossed wands with him, this afternoon, and _blasted_ him into a wall with nothing more than a simple Stunning Charm. _Twice!_"

"That was only a spirit! Or whatever it was," yelled one of the Slytherin upper years.

"A spirit, you say?" asked Harry right back. "One that was able to hold Miss Weasley's wand in his hand, and who _you_ saw cast _magic_ through it; one that was affected by a simple Stunning Charm; one that, when he actually hit the wall, hit with enough force to crack the rock wall behind him. No, he was solid enough, alright. Even an idiot could see that."

Turning back to the rest of the students, he asked, "Some of you, over the past three weeks, have gone to the Trophy Room to look for the information I provided you about Riddle before, yes?"

There were quite a few nods and 'Yeses' in reply.

"And that other - student - in the memory looked exactly like him in the photograph, yes?"

More nods.

"Well, now for the final proof," said Harry.

With a wave of his wand and a muttered, "_Flagrate!_" Harry wrote TOM MARVOLO RIDDLE in the air in shimmering fire. He swished his wand and the letters began to rearrange themselves, finishing with I AM LORD VOLDEMORT.

There were quite a few gasps and much whispering. Dumbledore sat there with his head down and muttering to himself. He really wasn't happy.

He left it there for a few seconds before swishing his wand through the words and extinguishing the flames.

"I'm sure _none_ of you now doubt the veracity of my words?" he calmly asked.

No one replied. Even the very unhappy Slytherins couldn't rebut.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After the 'dinner entertainment', Harry and Neville escorted the adults out to the front steps of the castle. Harry drew the memory of the period when he was talking with Riddle-spirit and dropped it into another phial, and capped it before handing it to Cygnus.

"I think I need to hand this off before Dumbledore sticks his broken beak in and tries to demand it off me," said Harry.

I'll have a look tonight, Harry," he said. "We _all_ want to be back here tomorrow morning for when Daphne and the others are woken. I'll be bringing the Davises and Grangers with me."

"Oh?" asked Harry. "I didn't think the Grangers would be able to _see_ the castle, let alone enter it."

"They'll be wearing special pendants that will allow them in and able to see," smiled Cygnus.

"Thank you," sighed Harry. "I'm sure Hermione will be very happy to see them when she wakes up."

"As am I," he said.

With words of parting, the adults left on the long walk back to the main gates, before apparating away.

Curfew was fast approaching, so Harry and Neville headed upstairs to their respective towers. Both were absolutely knackered and were looking forward to sleep.

When Harry entered the Ravenclaw common room the few students in there looked up at him with wary acceptance.

One of the older muggleborns quietly said, "You wear a pair of big brassy ones, Mister Potter."

Harry just grinned back with a weary expression. "I was scared nearly enough to shite myself for almost the whole time. But, I also knew, as the only parselmouth I knew of, I had to be at least one of the ones that had to go down there."

"That's what makes it all the more impressive," the older boy said. "You're _more_ than intelligent enough to also be rightfully afraid. Yet, you _still_ did it; _and_ came out victorious."

"Well," said Harry, "thank you. I just think we were incredibly lucky and am thankful we were able to save the young Gryff girl."

The older boy just nodded.

Over in the Gryffindor tower, Neville had just managed to remember the password and had clambered over the sill before he was grabbed and had the stuffing almost hugged out of him.

First, it was Ron Weasley who hugged him, then they were joined by the twins, who proceeded to bounce them up and down.

When he was finally released the oldest brother, Percy, with tears in his eyes, arm-clasped him before giving a very quick and manly one-armed hug. "Thank you," croaked the older boy. "Thank you for saving my sister's life."

Blushing, Neville replied, "Yeah, umm - that's alright, yeah?"

"Neville Longbottom!" cried one twin.

"Basilisk slayer!" cried the other.

"Rescuer of damsels-in-distress!" cried the first.

"Defeater of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in battle!"

"Cross him at your peril!"

"A Gryffindor's Gryffindor!"

"That's enough!" barked Percy, before they went any further. "The poor boy must be exhausted."

"I am," said Neville quietly. "I'm heading for bed. I want to be up early for when our friends are revived."

"Then we bid you goodnight," said the first.

"_Sir_ Neville of Longbottom," said the second.

Then both bowed deeply with opposite and matching gestures towards the stairs up to the boy's dorms.

Neville gave a little snort of tired amusement before trudging up the stairs.

Both he and Harry were asleep when their respective heads hit their pillows.

Neither of them knew their dorm mates stayed as quiet as they could in their own preparations for bed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Both boys met in the infirmary with Susan and Hannah, and with the adults, early the next morning before breakfast. Both looked as if they needed more sleep.

Cygnus, Isabel and Sirius were joined by Edmund and Petra Davis, Wendell and Monica Granger, Aunt Amelia and two of her aurors. Aunt Amelia and her two aurors were off to one side with Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall. She clearly wasn't happy with either of them.

With five petrified patients, plus the cat and the ghost, it would have made for a crowded room if it wasn't so large.

Madam Pomfrey walked in a short time later with Professor Snape, who was carrying a rack of six identical potion phials. They were followed by Caretaker Filch, who was looking a little anxious.

"Well, it seems we'll be having a bit of an audience today, Severus," she said, a little surprised by the size of the crowd.

The Potions Master just muttered something under his breath.

"We'll be starting with Mrs Norris," she said in her no-nonsense manner, heading for where the cat was hidden behind a screen in the corner.

It looked like a couple of the parents were about to object, but they decided against it when they were cut off by dual glares from the healer and Potions Master. From experience, they clearly knew the middle-aged witch was not to be trifled with when treating patients.

The screen was removed and Snape set his phial rack down on one of those patient wheeled tables. With her wand drawn and pointing at the throat of the cat, she carefully massaged the muscles around the throat while Snape gently tipped a small amount of the potion down into its mouth.

It took a little while, but the cat began to stir. Soon, it was moving freely. A little while later, Madam Pomfrey picked the cat up and offered it to a hurrying over Argus Filch, who accepted it with grateful sobs and thank yous.

He moved out of the way while cradling the cat in his arms, whispering to it with tears in his eyes.

Medi-witch and Potions Master then moved to young Colin. This time it took a little longer, and the entire potion, before he stirred. But, his skin tone had returned and he was breathing easily by the time the two moved on.

Next were Justin, then Hermione, Tracey, and finally Daphne.

By the time Daphne was being administered the Mandrake Draught, Colin was sitting up in bed and looking around.

Suddenly, the boy exclaimed, "It's a ruddy great big snake!"

Madam Pomfrey moved over to him as Snape gave one last general sneer to everyone before sweeping out of the infirmary with robes billowing.

"Hush! Mister Creevey," the medi-witch said to the boy. "We know and it's been dealt with."

"Oh. Good," the boy said, before he suddenly blurted, "What time is it? I'm going to be late for class!"

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed. Others joined in with their own giggles or snickers.

It was up to Professor McGonagall to tell the boy just how long he'd been out of it.

Daphne was just starting to stir when young Colin called out, "_Seven months?_" and then, "_I missed Christmas?_"

Dumbledore was talking to Finch-Fletchley. "_How_ much schooling _did I miss?_" the boy asked. "Where are my _parents?_ They must be frantic!"

That's actually a very good question, young man," said Cygnus.

"_I'll_ say!" said the boy.

Dumbledore looked quite abashed. He muttered something to Finch-Fletchley. The boy replied, "I don't bloody care _who_ you think you are! You're _not_ my parents! I _want_ to see my _parents_!"

"Me too!" said Colin.

"Well, Albus?" said Cygnus. "You'd best go _get_ them. You'll notice we brought the Grangers to see their daughter."

Harry looked across and could see Hermione was quietly sobbing in her parents arms. Neville went over to them.

With another of his disappointed grandfather sighs, the old man asked both boys for the address of their respective parents and left the room.

"I've missed so much _school_!" wailed Hermione.

While he had his hand gently brushing her hair back from her face, Daphne opened her eyes.

"Hey you," he quietly said.

"Hey," she quietly said. "I'm guessing three weeks?"

"Yeah," he replied before bending down and kissing her.

She smiled back.

"I'll leave you with your parents for a bit," he said. "I need to go talk to my protectee."

She nodded with a smile.

Harry went around to see Hermione, on the opposite side of the bed from her parents, and said, "Hey you."

She turned to look at him and then spun about to fling her arms around him. "Harry!" she cried. "It's a basilisk, Harry. And a - bloomin' big one!"

"We know," said Harry, easing her away. "Neville and I dealt with it."

With a gobsmacked expression on her face she asked, "What do you mean by you '_dealt_ with it'?"

"Neville and I went down into the Chamber of Secrets and killed it," said Harry, smiling.

"Harry James Potter!" she barked. "Neville Francis Longbottom!"

Harry backed up a bit and grinned at Neville, who was grinning just as much back.

"Yeah, she's better," he snickered.

"Yeah, all three names," chuckled Harry back.

"You could have been killed!" she yelled at them. "You should have let the professors handle it!"

"Woah, Hermione!" said Harry holding up his hands. "It took a parselmouth to get in and time was of the essence."

"Yeah," said Neville. "There was a damsel in distress who would have died had we not gone down."

Looking at Neville, Harry quirked an eyebrow and asked, "Damsel in distress?" before thinking about it for a few moments. He shrugged and said, "Yeah, actually; that's about right."

"You two _idiots_!" she barked.

"Hey, that's what Susan called us," said Neville.

The girl in question came over and said, "I did, too!"

"Look, Hermione," said Harry to the angry girl. "I'll let you yell at Neville some more. I'll be with Daphne."

"Hey!" complained Neville. "What happened to 'Where a Longbottom goes a Potter will be by his side'?"

"That's the future Lady Potter over there, Nev," replied Harry, pointing his finger to Daphne.

"Then I'd best come with," he happily said.

They'd taken only a few steps when Daphne called, "Yes. It's _my_ turn to yell at you."

The adults around her bed separated to allow Daphne to see them both. Cygnus and Sirius were both sporting wide grins. Daphne, however, was not.

Both boys stopped dead in their tracks. They looked at each other and Neville said, "Errr - I think breakfast is about to be served in the Great Hall."

"Good idea, Nev," replied Harry happily. "We'd best go, then."

"What?" scoffed Daphne. "You have no problem facing a thirty foot basilisk that can kill you just by looking at you; but you won't face me?"

Both boys looked at each other again before turning back and saying in stereo, "_Hell_ yes!"

While it amused the adults, by the look on her face, it clearly didn't amuse Daphne. "Get _over_ here, you two!" she growled.

With heads hanging and attempting to ooze contriteness, both boys moved to stand each side of her bed.

"As Hermione said," she said, "'You two _idiots_!' It was not your job to go charging in like silly Gryffindors..."

"Hey!" said Neville.

"... just because some girl _might_ have been in danger!"

"We were prepared!" said Neville.

"Yeah we had these roosters transfigured as blocks of wood," said Harry

"And it took a simple Magic Cancelling Charm to transfigure them back..."

"Plus, we had a pair each of my mirror sunglasses for our eyes..."

"And the note Hermione had, said a simple rooster's crow would kill the thing..."

"So all we had to do was not look at it eye-to-eye..."

"While we transfigured the wood back to roosters..."

"And just let the roosters crow within it's hearing range!"

"Is that what happened?" she ominously asked.

"Errr..."

"No."

"And what _did_ happen?" she quietly asked with a bit of a growl.

"Ummm - you'd best watch the memory your father has."

"Yes; that would be best."

"We may muck up the telling of it."

"But, the memory doesn't lie."

"You two are starting to sound like the Weasley twins," she said, calmer now.

"Now, that's just..." said Harry.

"Wrong," said Neville, before they both grinned at each other.

"Comedians, the pair of you," she huffed.

From where he was leaning on a spare bed, Sirius was trying not to laugh so much he was crying. Cygnus wasn't far off, either. And, Isabel was trying to glare at the two boys in support of her eldest daughter, but had her lips pursed like she was sucking on an unripened persimmon.

From the next bed over came the voice of Tracey. "Do _I_ get to yell at them now?"

Both boys glanced at each other for a few moments, then ran out the door. It would have been a photo finish as to which one made it out first.

"Cowards!" Tracey yelled after them amidst laughter.

"Imagine what they'd have been like..." mused Sirius.

"If they'd grown up together?" asked Cygnus.

"Now don't you two start!" said Isabel.

Both man laughed even harder.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	46. Cygnus Rants

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Six – Cygnus Rants**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When Harry and Neville walked side-by-side into the Great Hall for breakfast, the Hall went silent again.

Neville rolled his eyes while Harry snarked out clearly, "Yes, ladies and gents; it's the Great Neville Longbottom and his friend, Harry."

That earned them, at least, a few smiles.

As the two girls were still in the infirmary with the other three, there was none of their friends sitting anywhere for whom they needed to look. With a twitch of his head and a mutter of, "Gryffindor," Harry indicated they should sit at the table of the Lions. They joined the Twins and the rest of the Gryff' Quidditch team.

"Morning," said Neville.

"All!" said Harry, as the pair of them sat.

"Oh, no!" said Katie Bell with mock horror. "The twins have _infected_ them!"

The twins just grinned at each other before bursting out with laughter. While Harry and Neville did the same.

The two quickly loaded their plates and set to eating as much as they could before they had to return to face the music in the infirmary.

"They're awake," said Neville.

"Who?" asked Angelina Johnson.

"Those petrified," said Harry.

"Good," said Oliver Wood.

"So, why aren't you up there?" asked Angelina.

"It's breakfast time," said Neville.

"And, they yelled at us," said Harry.

"They - yelled at you?" she asked.

Both boys nodded.

"Why?"

"It seems, they weren't happy," explained Harry

"... that we went down into the Chamber of Secrets," explained Neville

"We _did_ rescue young Miss Weasley."

"_And_, killed the basilisk."

"But, they still yelled at us for it."

"Stop that!" said Katie.

Both boys grinned again. The twins cracked up.

They were only partway through eating their breakfast when they were approached by Professor McGonagall.

"Mister Potter. Mister Longbottom. The Headmaster would like to see you in his office."

Turning to look at her, Harry said, "It's a Sunday, Professor. My betrothed, and our friends, have only just been revived and we're expected back there post haste. To save _valuable_ time, what is it that Mister Dumbledore wants?"

With an annoyed glare and pursed lips, she replied, "It's Headmaster Dumbledore, Mister Potter. And I have not been informed as to why he wants to see you."

"My apologies, Professor," said Harry. "I had not been informed the Headmaster had been reinstated to his position. Is this the case?"

"Yes, Mister Potter, I believe so," she said.

"Fair enough, Professor," he said. "However, as I have already stated, I have another - far more important - engagement at this time. If it is a matter of great urgency, I and my magical guardians shall be happy to entertain the Headmaster in the infirmary in, say, fifteen minutes?"

"The Headmaster does not like to be kept waiting, Mister Potter," she said.

Harry sighed and said, "But its quite alright for a student to have three consecutive meals interrupted. Very well; I shall send a message to my guardians they're expected in the Headmaster's office immediately because he 'doesn't like to be kept waiting'."

Harry stood up and said to her, "Ready for me to knock your socks off?"

Dropping his wand into his hand, Harry stepped over the bench and looked towards the double doors to the Entrance Hall. He raised his wand, gathered a bit of extra magic, focussed on his pleasant thoughts of kissing Daphne while holding her in his arms and incanted, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

A large stag surged out of the tip of his wand, and charged forward a few paces before turning around and trotting back. The Hall went silent. To it, Harry said, "Message to Lord and Lady Greengrass in the infirmary. Headmaster Dumbledore has just summoned Neville and me to his office through Professor McGonagall, interrupting our breakfast. Apparently, he does _not_ like to be kept waiting. So, as my magical guardians, could you please join us there as quickly as possible? Thank you."

The stag turned and bounded from the room, out through the doors.

Harry turned back to a completely silent room. Everyone was staring at him in shock again.

"How's your socks, Professor?" he grinned.

Neville laughed. The message Patronus was something they'd been studying during search breaks the past three weeks. They thought it might come in handy when they separated and wanted to call the others to them. Harry was the only one who could do it, so far.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Neville walked side by side behind Professor McGonagall along the corridor leading to the Headmaster's office.

"Slow down, Nev," muttered Harry to the other boy. "We want to give time for Cygnus and Isabel to join us before we pass beyond the gargoyle."

Neville nodded and immediately slowed down.

"How's your Occlumency, Neville?" Harry asked louder.

"Quite good, actually," he replied. "Uncle Algie taught me and he say's I'm quite good. Why?"

"Well," replied Harry. "I've noticed, on a couple of occasions, that the Headmaster has this _naughty_ habit of trying to use passive Legilimency to look inside my mind. So, I recommend you have your shields firmly up and set to _hurt_."

"Mister Potter," said Professor McGonagall, annoyed. "I do not believe the Headmaster would do such a thing."

"Then, Neville and I having our Occlumency shields set to cause significant pain to anyone attempting Legilimency upon us, will make no difference whatsoever. Correct, Professor?" he reasoned back. "So, if the Headmaster suddenly grips his head in great pain, you will have learned your belief the Headmaster would not do such a thing will have been in error. Yes?"

Instead of answering, Professor McGonagall's stride just became more determined. Neville was just about to instinctively increase his own pace, when Harry reached out his arm and held him back their slower pace.

As they were approaching the gargoyle, Harry heard running footsteps coming from behind them. He stopped with Neville to wait. It was Sirius.

"Professor?" he called.

Professor McGonagall stopped and turned to see who it was.

"Sirius?" she asked. "Why are you here?"

"Informing you, by order of their magical guardians, neither of the boys is to enter the Headmaster's office until Cyg... Lord and Lady Greengrass join us," he panted.

With a frown of mild frustration she said, "Very well."

Both Greengrasses entered the corridor a short while later. Neither looked happy.

"Minerva!" called Cygnus. "What does Albus think he's doing?" As they walked up to them.

"I am not privy to that information, Cygnus," she replied.

There was a few moments hesitation while he stared back at Professor McGonagall. "You two," said Cygnus, looking at Harry and Neville. "Back to your breakfasts. Now. After that, you will go directly to the infirmary. You will obey no instructions to the contrary. Go."

Both boys nodded and took off.

Turning to the Professor, he waited until the boys were well out of earshot and said, "Well you _should_ be. The Headmaster should have little contact with any of the students without both their Deputy, and the individual student's Head of House, being _fully_ aware as to why. It's in the Charter, for Merlin's sake!

"So, in other words, Minerva, you are currently in remiss of your duties as both Deputy _and_ Head of House."

"I do not appreciate being spoken to that way, Cygnus," she angrily said.

"And _I_ do not like being forced into the position where I must _do_ so," he retorted. "Now, _we_ will be going to see Albus, to see just why he thought it was necessary - and so urgent - that the boys' breakfast _had_ to be interrupted on the _very_ day their betrothed and friends have been woken from their petrification." He held out his hand in the 'after you' gesture.

Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, carefully mentally reviewing the questions he wanted to ask the two boys, when his alert ward went off, just before there was a knock on the door.

"Enter!" he called.

Professor McGonagall walked in.

"Ah, Minerva. Thank you for..." he started until he saw an angry Cygnus, Isabel and Sirius walk in after her.

"Minerva?" he asked. "I thought I asked you to summon..."

"Shove it, Albus!" barked Cygnus, striding forward and stopping almost against the leading edge of the desk. "Explain to me - right now - in _excruciating_ detail - why you felt it was both urgent and necessary to summon young Harry and Neville to your office."

"Ahhh..." said Dumbledore, quickly gathering his thoughts in the face of the angry Lord in front of him. "I wanted to talk to both boys about their experience down in the supposed Chamber of Secrets. I felt it was necessary for me, as Headmaster, to have a better understanding of any threats to the school."

"I'm still waiting on the urgent part, Albus," growled Cygnus. "What was so urgent about that, that it could not wait until at least they had finished their breakfasts?"

"Ah. Perhaps I did not make myself clear to Minerva..." he tried.

Spinning to stare directly at Professor McGonagall, Cygnus said, "Apparently, he is blaming _you_ for the boys' breakfast being interrupted. So, explain to me..."

"_Albus!_" barked the shocked Professor. "Tell them the truth! You told me 'immediately', and I'm willing to hand over a pensieve memory of the event!"

Cygnus spun back and said, "Well, it appears your deputy is not willing to take the fall for you, Albus. So, try again. What was so urgent that it could not wait until they had at least finished their breakfasts?"

"Errr - I recall I _did_ say 'immediately', but I did not believe it would be taken so literally. I meant, of course, immediately after their breakfasts."

"You've been involved in politics for almost fifty years, Albus," retorted Cygnus. "You have risen to Chief Warlock _and_ Supreme Mugwump. You have _always_ been very careful with your choice of words. So, I know you do not make little slips like that. In other words, I do not believe you in the slightest."

Leaning forward and placing both fists on the leading surface of the desk, Cygnus leaned forward even further. "In the past two years you have summoned young Harry to this office on at least half a dozen times. That is _triple_ as many times as the serial troublemaker standing just behind me was, in the _entire_ seven years he was a student here, himself.

"I have also reviewed the pensieve memories of both Harry and Daphne of each and every time they've been summoned to your office. At _no_ time has there ever been shown a lawful reason for you to summon them."

That worried Dumbledore. He did not realise the two children would do that.

"So, as the magical guardian of both Harry James Potter and Daphne Ophelia Greengrass I am officially informing you of the following points. One - at any time you desire to speak to them in future, either myself, Lady Isabel Greengrass or Lord Sirius Black will be present for the entire time..."

"Is this _completely_ necessary?" Dumbledore asked, as if speaking to a petulant child.

"Clearly, _yes_!" barked Cygnus. "Two - you may not seek to speak with them when it will interrupt meals, classes, their etiquette club meetings, visits to Hogwarts, Quidditch games or other student activities. Three - you must provide at least three full days notice of your desire to speak to them. Four - any message you have for either of them will be in writing _and_ signed by you; and such notice will not then automatically, or otherwise, destroy itself. And Five - should you breach any of the aforementioned four points, I shall be withdrawing both from Hogwarts, _permanently_. They can attend Beauxbatons or one of the other educational institutions.

"Now, have I made myself perfectly clear to you, Albus? Or do I need to go over my points again?"

"No," replied Dumbledore, quietly. "I believe you've made your point very clear."

"Good," said Cygnus, firmly. "So there will be no - further - misunderstanding, you will have those points in writing before the end of the day.

"As to your _urgent_ need to speak with Harry and Neville today," he said, a little calmer. "They are currently finishing their interrupted breakfast. After that, I have ordered both of them to attend the infirmary to visit with their just revived friends. In our presence only, you may speak with them both there.

"If you do not take me up on this offer, then you show yourself to be a liar about just how urgent this matter actually _is_ to you."

Standing back up straight, Cygnus said, "We'll see you in the infirmary in a little while, Albus." He spun about and led the way for Isabel and Sirius back out of the office.

As the door closed firmly behind the three, Professor McGonagall was glaring at Dumbledore. "How _dare_ you try to shift the blame to me, Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore mentally winced. His Deputy _never_ used his last name in conversation.

"You can consider yourself notified I will never act as your messenger girl, ever again," she growled. "And you will find I will be talking to the rest of the staff about just what you tried to do to me here, today."

She spun of her heel and stormed out.

Dumbledore sat there and mentally moaned about the situation. He needed to find out what the spirit of Tom had said to the two boys. It was for the Greater Good that he know. The spirit of Tom might have given information that was necessary for the fight against Voldemort when he returns.

Now, he could only ask his questions in front of others, and that was unacceptable. Others could not know for the security of the magical realm; lest Tom or his followers find out.

He needed to ask his questions in such a way that it would not be apparent why he was asking - or could he feign not completely understanding what he was told and beg for the memory of the event. He could claim the spirit of Tom might have said something that the boys didn't consider important but he - in his greater knowledge of the castle, magic and mature wisdom - would see as a risk to the school.

Yes. That would do it.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Neville had returned to their breakfasts but had to make up new plates, as what was left in front of them when they left was already removed by the house elves, and would have been cold, anyway.

Before they were finished, Sirius sat down next to them. "Neville, Harry," he greeted them with a smile.

"Sirius?" asked Harry.

"I'm here to make sure you're not bothered by the staff and have an uninterrupted trip back to the infirmary when you're finished," he said.

"What happened with the old man?" asked Harry.

"Something to share in private, Pup," he replied. "But, it's all good."

Harry nodded and continued to eat.

It was just then that the post owls came swooping in. Harry received a copy of the Daily Prophet from Hedwig.

Scanning through the first couple of pages, he was happy to see the whole incident about the Chamber had not yet made the paper. So, they'd have another free day, at least, before the whole of the wizarding world learned of their battle with the basilisk.

Showing the front page of the paper to Neville, he said, "A reprieve, Nev. Nothing about our battle, the basilisk or the Chamber."

"Thank Merlin for that!" said Neville with a feeling of relief.

"It won't last long," said Harry. "I estimate it'll only last until tomorrow morning before the name Neville Longbottom is a household name throughout wizarding Britain. And only a couple of days later before it's dispersed throughout the wizarding world."

Neville groaned and whined, "Now you've just put me off the rest of my breakfast!"

Harry just clapped him on the shoulder and said, "Welcome to my world. I've had to put up with the whole Boy-Who-Lived nonsense for almost two years now."

"You know," he said. "I used to _dream_ of being one of the close friends of Harry Potter, wizarding saviour. And go on all those wonderful adventures with you that Lockhart wrote you did. Now I'm wondering if I should run away as fast as I can."

Harry and Sirius both laughed. A couple of the Gryff's joined in with snickers and giggles.

"Don't worry, Nev," said Harry. "I'll see what I can do to make next year as exciting as watching grass grow or paint dry."

"I'm probably going to hold you to that," muttered Neville. "Then, before the school year is even remotely finished, I'll be wishing we did something else exciting."

Harry just grinned back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Neville had returned to the infirmary a little while earlier, tailed by their escort, Sirius.

Sirius noted Dumbledore had yet to arrive but did not doubt the man would, sooner or later.

Harry made his way to Daphne's bed and gave her a quick kiss. One she returned with enthusiasm. Pulling back, Harry noticed two sets of other parents either side of both Colin and Justin. There was also a younger boy with Colin that looked like he was a younger brother.

"Harry?" called Hermione from two beds away.

"Mmm?" he asked.

"_When_ did you learn to cast a fully corporeal patronus?" she asked a little sweetly.

"That's what we'd like to know," said Sirius. "Did you know your patronus takes the form of your father's animagus form? It near scared the life out of me when it came in and spoke. I thought your father's ghost was paying us a visit."

"Sorry about that," grinned Harry. "And, yes, I did know it takes the form of Prongs - and that's what I call him, by the way - and the four of us who weren't taking unintended three week long naps, have been trying to cast a patronus for a better part of the entire last three weeks.

"So far, I'm the only one of us other four who's managed it." Turning to the three girls he said, "And, yes, I intend to teach it to the three of you."

"Well, it really surprised my parents, when they saw it," she said. "They thought it was a ghost, too. But, how did you get it to speak?"

"In that form it's called a messenger patronus," said Harry. "It's very useful to send short messages to people you want to receive it in a very short amount of time. However, it can only be used as a messenger when there aren't any specific threats around. If there are, then it will immediately attack the threat."

"Could you show me again, please?" she begged.

"I'd like to see it again, too," said Daphne.

Harry said, "Alright." And moved to stand near Madam Pomfrey's desk, looking down the length of the room.

Popping his wand out of his sleeve, he raised it in a dueller's stance and said, "The secret to casting a fully corporeal patronus is a very happy memory filled with love. It has to be a memory of a happy moment in your life when you felt on top of the world. More often than not, it will probably be a very personal memory.

"Put that in the forefront of your mind - let it infuse you in remembrance - and simply point, incant and cast with your magic."

Harry gave himself a few moments to bring up his happy memory, drew in a bit of magic, pointed his wand forward, and cast in a clear voice, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Prongs, again, shot out of the tip of his wand and took a couple of trots forward, looked about a bit, and trotted back to Harry.

Harry reached out and stroked the near-insubstantial creature down it's long muzzle. "Good boy!" he said. "You can go now." And Prongs faded away. "And that's how you do it," he said.

"Wow!" exclaimed Daphne. "I mean, wow!"

"Eloquent, as always, Miss Greengrass," he smirked back.

"Prat!" she called back.

"Wow, Harry!" exclaimed Colin. "Can you teach me to do that?"

"Can you teach _all_ of us?" asked Cygnus.

Looking to Colin first, he said, "I tell you what, Mister Creevey. I'll make a deal with you. If you get at least five out of seven Exceeds Expectations or better next year, I'll teach you. I'm sorry, but until then I don't think you can cast one, anyway. It requires magic of sufficient power lacking in a normal eleven year old.

"As for everyone else. Yeah, I can teach it. As I said, it requires sufficient power, a very happy memory and focus to use that memory," he said. Turning to Cygnus he said, "I take it you cannot cast one yet?"

Shaking his head slightly, he replied, "No."

"Come over here, please," said Harry. "I think I can get you casting one pretty quickly."

Cygnus, frowning a little, walked over. Harry had him bend forward and whispered in his ear.

"I want you to think back to the day Daphne was born," he whispered. "Have that in your mind. Think about how it felt to hold your new daughter in your arms. Drink of that feeling. Let it fill you so it feels as if you're going to burst. Then stand and incant, _Expecto Patronum_, pushing with your magic."

"That's it?" asked Cygnus.

"That's it," replied Harry stepping back.

Cygnus gave a nod and stood up straight. He drew his wand, calmed himself, and cast, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Instantly a large silver eagle flew out of the tip of his wand. It lasted barely a few seconds before it faded away. But, Harry could see it was because the man was in shock at what he had just done.

"That was very well done, Harry," said Dumbledore, from where he was standing just inside of the doors leading out. "And an _outstanding_ first effort at a patronus, Cygnus." Walking further in the old man said, "Clearly, you are a very good teacher, Harry."

Cygnus enveloped him in a very _un_manly hug, before planting a kiss on the top of his head. "Thank you, Harry," he emotionally said.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"Is there anything else Tom said to you, Harry?" asked the old man.

Sitting at Madam Pomfrey's desk - with Dumbledore sitting behind it, of course, and Neville, Harry, Sirius and the Greengrasses on the other side - Harry was looking like he was thinking hard about his chat with Tom.

With a shake of his head, Harry sighed and said, "Alas, Albus; I don't think there's anything else you need from us about this. Riddle was _quite_ the chatterbox, but it was all about how great he considered he was, how much and what young Miss Weasley told him about me and herself, and how much he pulled the wool over your's and the other staff's eyes while he was a student here."

With a sigh, the old man said, "Yes. However, there may have been something you would have considered inconsequential, but could be vitally important to the safety of the students here. I know you may believe it would have no bearing, but wiser and more knowledgeable heads may know differently.

"So, I believe it would be very wise of you, and safer for all, if you allow me to have your memory of the event."

"I'm sorry, Albus," sighed Harry. "But I gave my memory of it to Cygnus, here. And I really don't want you to see it. You seem to be taking far too personal an interest in me for me to be comfortable with. Until you explain yourself for your reasons for doing that, the less you know about me - and are involved with me - the more comfortable I will be."

The old man frowned and said, "You seem to have a pretty good recall of what happened."

Harry shrugged and said, "Somewhat. But, I assure you, I handed my memory of the event to Cygnus last night."

"He did, Albus," said Cygnus. "I reviewed it when I arrived home, last night. And I can confirm he's telling you the truth and hasn't lied."

Turning to Neville, the old man asked, "And, you, Neville?"

"I gave my memory to give to Uncle Algie," said Neville.

And he did, earlier that morning, before breakfast. Cygnus had it. When the old man tried to question Neville earlier, Neville said he remembered very little of the chat because he was trying to help Ginny.

Another sigh of disappointment from the old man and he turned to Cygnus. "May I review the memory with you, Cygnus?" he pleaded. "It's _vitally_ important."

Cygnus sat for a few moments before he replied, "I'll think about it, Albus. I'm still not happy with you, at the moment. And, I think we need to keep our distances from one another until things cool back down.

"However, I can assure you, _this_ wiser head did not see or hear anything in the memory that would place the students in this castle in any danger."

"I also noticed you didn't first ask _me_ if you could ask Cygnus to review _my_ memory, Albus," said Harry. "That_'_s yet another sign you have no respect for my wishes."

Frustrated and blocked at every turn, the old man left a little while later, without what he wanted in the first place.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	47. Patronus Secret

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Seven – Patronus Secret**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, Harry and the other three visited the infirmary and were told the now-unpetrified victims would all be released to rejoin the student body for breakfast.

Madam Pomfrey shoo'ed the four friends out, so they waited just outside the doors for Daphne, Tracey and Hermione to exit.

Young Colin was first out and said, "Hi Harry, Hi Neville. Thanks for killing that big snake. See you later!" and ran off before any of the four could say anything back.

Neville snorted and said, "Hyperactive little sprog, isn't he?"

The others could only agree.

Next out was Finch-Fletchley. He exited the doors and saw them. Steeling himself, he walked over and said, "Mister Potter, I apologise for being one of the people who thought you were responsible for the attack on Filch's cat and young Colin."

"Alright, Mister Finch-Fletchley, apology accepted," replied Harry. "However, I hope you won't be jumping to any conclusions in future about me or my friends. All I ask is that you wait until you have proper evidence before casting aspersions, alright?"

Finch-Fletchley replied, "I will do that. Thank you." He gave a short bow and quickly left.

The three girls all came out together and were happy to find their four friends waiting for them. Together, they went down to the Great Hall for breakfast.

Walking in, Harry was happy to note the noise from the students and staff didn't drop completely off as it did the previous morning. And the four went and sat at the Ravenclaw table where space was quickly made for them.

They had only just started eating breakfast when the Headmaster stood to make an announcement.

He waited until he had almost complete silence and said, "May I have your undivided attention, please."

The last few talkers shut up.

"As a rare treat; because we have _all_ suffered greatly due to the fear that permeated this place for much of the year; with the exception of OWL and NEWT examinations; we have decided to cancel end of year exams for this year."

Uproar. Most students were excitedly cheering away. A few looked happy for those who's exams were cancelled but were either OWL or NEWT students, themselves. A very few, like Hermione and some of the Ravenclaws, looked unhappy at the news. Harry didn't mind one way or the other about exams, but was happy because it meant he would get more time to spend with his friends before everyone went home.

Dumbledore stood with his hands raised in a gesture of trying to settle everyone down. And most were quietening down.

"Now, as for..." he started before the doors banged open.

Lord Lucius Malfoy stood there, fury in his face. And cowering behind his legs, heavily wrapped in bandages, was Dobby.

"Good Morning, Lucius," said Dumbledore pleasantly.

Lord Malfoy swept into the room and up between the tables to stand between the student tables and the head table.

Dobby went scurrying in after him, crouching at the hem of his cloak, a look of abject terror on his face.

The elf was carrying a stained rag with which he was attempting to finish cleaning Malfoys shoes. Apparently Malfoy senior had set out in a great hurry, for not only were his shoes half-polished, but his usually sleek hair was dishevelled. Ignoring the elf bobbing apologetically around his ankles, he fixed his cold eyes upon Dumbledore.

"So!" he said "You've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."

"Well, you see, Lucius," said Dumbledore, smiling serenely. "Many of the governors contacted me very late in the evening, two days ago. It was something like being caught in a hailstorm of owls, to tell the truth. They'd heard that Arthur Weasley's daughter had been killed and wanted me back here at once. They seemed to think I was the best man for the job, after all.

"Very strange tales they told me, too. Several of them seemed to think you had threatened to curse their families if they didn't agree to suspend me in the first place."

Malfoy paled, but his eyes were still slits of fury.

"So - have you stopped the attacks yet?" he sneered. "Have you caught the culprit?"

"We have," said Dumbledore, with a smile.

"Well?" said Malfoy sharply. "Who is it?"

"The same person as last time, Lucius," said Dumbledore. "But, this time, Lord Voldemort was acting through somebody else. Someone he had in thrall."

"I see..." said Malfoy slowly.

"A clever plan," said Dumbledore in a level voice, still staring Malfoy in the eye. "Because, if Harry here..." and gestured to Harry, where he sat.

Malfoy spun and shot Harry a swift, sharp look.

"... and his friend, Neville, hadn't discovered what happened," the old man continued. "Why, Ginny Weasley might have taken all the blame. No one would _ever_ have been able to prove she hadn't acted of her own free will."

Malfoy said nothing. His face was suddenly masklike.

"And imagine," Dumbledore went on, "what might have happened then. The Weasleys are one of our most prominent pureblood families. Imagine the effect on Arthur Weasley and his Muggle Protection Act, if his own daughter was discovered attacking and killing muggleborns. However, that plan would have failed because the last students to be petrified, were, in fact, all very important heirs of some of our most important pureblood families."

Harry had a sudden idea. Surreptitiously, he lifted his foot under the table. Removed shoe and sock. And put his shoe back on.

He pulled the diary from his left pants pocket - where he'd had it, expecting Dumbledore to want it - folded the sock and placed it carefully just inside the back cover of the book. He stood and quietly moved to stand about five feet behind the older Malfoy.

"You already know how Miss Weasley got hold of the diary; don't you, Lord Malfoy?" said Harry.

Lucius Malfoy rounded on him.

"How should I know how the stupid little girl got hold of it?" he said.

"Of course you know, Lord Malfoy, you _gave_ it to her," said Harry. "On the 19th of August, last year. Flourish & Blotts. Mister Weasley and yourself decided to engage in fisticuffs. At the end of the scuffle you picked up her old Transfiguration book and slipped the diary inside it, didn't you?"

He saw Malfoy's white hands clench and unclench. "Prove it," he hissed

"Oh, no one will be able to do that," said Dumbledore, smiling at Harry. "Not now that Riddle has vanished from the book. On the other hand, I would advise you, Lucius, not to go giving out any more of Voldemort's old school things. If any more of them find their way into innocent hands, I think Arthur Weasley, for one, will make sure they are traced back to you."

"But we're not needing to prove it in a court of _law_, Headmaster," said Harry. "We only need to prove it in the court of public _opinion_. And I, for one, will be _more_ than willing to show the memory of the events in Flourish & Blotts that day; and the memory of the events in the Chamber where, when I destroyed the diary, it also destroyed the resurrection of Tom Riddle, also known as Voldemort. The public won't have a problem putting it together."

Lucius Malfoy stood for a moment, and Harry distinctly saw his right hand twitch as though he was longing to reach for his wand.

"I return to you, sir, your property," said Harry, as he calmly lobbed the book at Malfoy's chest. The taller man instinctively caught it with his right hand.

Thrusting the book at the house elf to free his hands again. Dobby took it.

"We're going, Dobby!"

Harry moved to block his path and said, "Just before you do, Lord Malfoy. There _is_ one more small thing."

"And what is that?" the man snarled.

"I really don't like people who abuse others," said Harry. "Even beings such as house elves. When I see such an injustice - when I can - I act."

He turned to the elf and said, "Dobby. Have a look in the book just inside the back cover."

Dobby quickly opened the book and saw Harry's sock. He almost reverently removed it and held it in his hand. "Master has given a sock" said the elf. "Master gave it to Dobby."

"What's that?" spat Malfoy, spinning to glare at the elf. "What did you say?"

"Got a sock," said Dobby in disbelief. "Master gave it to Dobby - Dobby is _freeeee_!"

Lucius Malfoy stood frozen, staring at the elf.

Rounding back on Harry, he snarled, "You've lost me my servant, boy!"

Then he lunged at Harry. Harry quickly sidestepped and shot a fist straight into the taller man's solar plexus.

Dobby shouted, "You shall not harm Harry Potter!"

There was a loud bang, and Malfoy was sent flying down the Hall before crashing onto the floor. He got up, his face livid, and pulled out his wand, but Dobby raised a long, threatening finger.

"You shall go now," he said fiercely, pointing at Malfoy.

"Really, Lord Malfoy," sneered Harry. "You would pull a wand on an unarmed boy in front of all these _hundreds_ of people?"

"You shall not touch Harry Potter," said Dobby. "You shall go now."

Lucius Malfoy had no choice. With a last, incensed stare at the pair of them, he swung his cloak around him and hurried out the doors.

The Hall had been quiet, watching the whole byplay play out before them. With Malfoy senior gone they all chatted excitedly among themselves. Draco Malfoy quickly rose and hurried out the door after his father.

"Harry Potter freed Dobby!" said the elf shrilly. "Harry Potter set Dobby free!"

"The least I could do, Dobby," said Harry, grinning. "But I know how poorly this will reflect on you. I know this will harm you. However, I promise I'll have an answer for you and get you a family that will treat you with kindness and respect. Just wait for me to call you, alright?"

The elf's ugly brown face split suddenly into a wide, toothy smile. He threw his arms around Harry's middle and hugged him. "Harry Potter is greater, by far, than Dobby knew!" he sobbed.

And with a final crack, Dobby disappeared.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Like everyone else in the castle, who did not need to stay for exams, The Seven were thinking of all heading home early; even Hermione.

So, with permission of their Heads of Houses, the Seven floo'ed home with promises of getting in contact with each other as soon as they were settled.

Hermione, because her parents were at work and weren't expecting her home for another two and a half weeks, followed Daphne and Harry through to Greengrass Estate. She floo'ed home to the newly christened Dagworth-Granger Manor when she expected her parents to be arriving home from work.

As expected, the story about the Battle of the Chamber of Secrets, as it was called in the Daily Prophet, broke a day later. Harry immediately floo called Longbottom Hall to let Gran and Neville know, in case they didn't receive the paper. Harry knew Neville didn't subscribe but he discovered Gran did.

The adults then said the two kids would not be allowed to go out in public without at least one adult escort. In support of their friends, the other five said they'd try and visit as often as possible.

Hermione's parents were working the following Saturday, all day, so Hermione floo'ed back to Greengrass Estate for the day. There, she wouldn't be home alone, and she could also practice magic. She was determined for Harry to show her the Patronus Charm.

Daphne, also wanting to learn, quickly floo called the others and they made a day of it on the Saturday. Even Cygnus and Isabel joined in while Harry taught.

Cygnus only needed a couple more one-on-one sessions before he 'got' it. And his great eagle soared around the back of the property. He was also immediately able to use it to send messages.

Isabel was next to grasp the concept and her peregrine falcon joined Cygnus's eagle in flight.

With Neville now more confident in his own abilities since the battle, he was next with a lion patronus. On seeing it, Hannah exclaimed, "How apt!"

Daphne's swan patronus soared over the grounds not much later, and she was the first of the girls.

Susan and Hannah quickly followed suit with a German shepherd for Susan, first; and a retriever for Hannah. Watching the two 'Puffs with amusement, Harry said, "Are you two _sure_ you're not secretly twins, or something?"

A very frustrated Hermione didn't manage hers until Harry took her aside for special one-on-one time. She had not been using a suitable memory; as the one she was using was full of happiness, but not love. Getting her to switch to a memory that was both happy and loving had Hermione release an otter patronus not long afterwards.

When he asked if she wouldn't mind telling him what her memory was, she blushed and said, "It's the feeling of love I get when my father hugs me. Especially when I've done something that makes him really happy."

"A patronus always reflects the inner 'you'," said Harry, to the wider group. "You can tell a lot about a person by the form their patronus takes. For example, mine is a stag. My father was a stag animagus; and, according to Sirius, it looks pretty much _exactly_ like him.

"Deer are family, herd, oriented. Stags are the alpha-personalities within the herd, they're prideful, but also defenders of the weak.

"Susan's Alsatian is the chief breed of police and military dogs in the muggle world. They're extremely loyal, very intelligent and very obedient to a command influence. They're also trained as guard dogs, protectors. Of course, in the wild, they're predators who hunt in organised packs and who work together to bring down prey."

The next day, Susan brought Aunt Amelia back with her. "Auntie wants you to teach her the Patronus Charm, Harry!" she happily exclaimed.

"Mister Potter - Harry - I find myself astounded my niece, who is not yet thirteen years old, has learned to cast a Patronus; when I, and many of my aurors, are unable to do the same. How in Merlin's name did you manage it?" the older witch asked.

"I figured out the secret to it," replied Harry. "Once I had that, it wasn't hard to get the rest."

"I need you to teach me - right now!" she firmly, eagerly, said.

Thinking a bit, Harry said, "Alright; I can do that. But it's going to take you to trust me; to tell me some quite personal things. Do you think you can do that?"

"I will if I must," she firmly replied. "Until now, the best I've managed is a shield."

So Harry took her aside out on the back patio and started talking about how he'd figured out it was more about love, than happiness, that powered the Charm. Together, they talked about some of her happiest and love-filled memories.

Eventually, they settled on the memory of her wedding day, when her father first saw her in her wedding gown, and told her how beautiful she looked while he had tears in his eyes.

Having her hold the memory in her mind, he had her draw on her magic, incant and cast. Immediately, a large snow leopard leapt from her wand. The older witch had tears in her eyes as she stood there, frozen, with her wand arm extended.

After a good ten seconds, she released the Charm and allowed the leopard to fade away.

Knowing how much it can take out of you, emotionally, Isabel led her back into the house and had the house elves serve her tea. They then talked between them about their experience with their own patronuses.

Later, she performed the Charm twice more; with the last being a message she sent to her office.

"Some time over your break, Harry," she said to him, just before she left. "I'm going to want to see you in my office. I want you to do with those on my staff who are unable to cast the Patronus Charm, what you've just done for me. I believe you'll have them performing corporeal patronuses as quickly as you've done for me, today."

"Alright," he said. "But you know there's going to be those who won't like being taught by a child not yet even a teenager, right?"

"They'll obey orders," she replied. "And they'll be there."

"I don't doubt that," he said. "However, they're going to need to trust me, and trust that I can teach them."

"I don't expect you to work, miracles, Harry," she gently replied with a smile. "There will be those who won't, or can't, learn the Charm. However, even if you manage to teach only one, that's one more than I have right now who'll be able to cast it when you're done."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The following Sunday, prearranged, the Greengrasses floo'ed to the Grangers house.

Both households gathered in the lounge room and enjoyed morning tea together. At the right moment Harry cleared his throat and said, "Wendell, Monica, Hermione. As Cygnus has told you this home you have here..." and gestured around, "... is now considered a wizarding home, rather than a muggle home. That means you are allowed to have 'more' of the magical world within your home.

"However, you still receive muggle visitors. And, that means you are still limited to what you can have out in the open, as the Statute of Secrecy still applies. For example, you cannot have wizarding photographs displayed on your mantelpiece. Or wizarding portraits hanging on your walls.

"But, there is something you _can_ have that will also help you in ensuring you don't break the Statute. And it's something you _should_ have as Hermione is now the Head of a Noble and Ancient House, and this is the House Manor.

"If you accept the gift I'm about to give you, you help me keep a promise, you save a life, you will have a very magical and special protector, and it'll make your lives incredibly easier. It is also expected for Houses of our stature within wizarding society to have at least one."

Wendell sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is this a magical dog, or something, you're trying to foist off on us?" he asked.

Harry grinned and said, "No. May I call for your gift?"

"We'll see it first," he said. "_Before_ we accept."

"Ha!" said Cygnus. "Spoken like a Slytherin!"

"_Uncle Cygnus!_" scolded Hermione. "I assure you, Daddy would be a _Gryffindor_. Honestly!"

"Of course, I understand you'd want to know what my gift was first. We ready?" asked Harry, getting things back on track.

"Go on, then," gestured Wendell.

Harry turned slightly in his chair and called, "Dobby!"

And the little elf appeared with a slight pop. Since the last time she'd seen the little being, Hermione could see he looked far healthier, was much happier and lively, and was eager to please. But, still looked quite reduced in size.

He was also _not_ dressed in a dirty pillowcase, or was covered in bandages. Instead, he was dressed in a black blazer with the Dagworth-Granger crest on the pocket, a white shirt underneath, grey slacks, and wide black shoes with mismatched socks.

"Wendell, Monica, this is Dobby," introduced Harry. "Dobby is a house elf. I recently managed to trick his very abusive ex-Master into freeing him. However, a house elf's long life and magic is a product of a symbiotic relationship with witches and wizards.

"Now that Dobby is free, he is in the initial stages of a long, slow and painful death. And, as he was freed by a Master, he is - looked down upon - by his own kind. So he will receive no help there. Dobby needs to bond very soon with another wizarding family in order to live.

"House elves are self-sufficient in taking care of their own needs. On top of that, and in return for the bond and sharing of magic that results, in return - well - Dobby, why don't you tell the Grangers what you are happy to do for them?"

"Dobby loves to cook, clean, wash, polish, iron, tidy up, make the beds, wash the dishes, help raise the little ones, make snacks, take care of the gardens and lawns, and repair broken things," the little elf rapidly and excitedly said. "Dobby will keep master and mistresses' secrets, take care of shopping and banking, carry messages, and protect master and mistresses with elf magic."

"Dobby is in need of a home; a wizarding home," said Harry. "If you accept his service he will be the Head Elf for Dagworth-Granger House. The fact he will be the _only_ elf, currently, of Dagworth-Granger is irrelevant. The title of Head Elf of a Noble and Ancient House will restore his standing among his own kind.

"You have met some of the house elves for Greengrass House. And Potter House has eight; four here, two in France and two in Australia. This is normal."

With a sigh, Wendell asked, "How much do we pay him?"

"Dobby not be paid," the elf sternly said. "Dobby is a _good_ elf. Dobby receive magic from Dagworth-Granger House and that being enough."

"He's a _slave?_" asked Monica, alarmed.

"Definitely not," said Harry. "His previous master treated him like one, which is why I tricked the - So-and-so - into freeing him. As I explained earlier, it's a symbiotic relationship between wizard and elf. Both believe they get the better deal out of the relationship. The physical relationship you have with him will be entirely up to you. The Greengrasses and I treat our elves with respect and as valued members of our households."

"I read up on them, Daddy, when I found out about them," said Hermione. "It would be a kindness to him and we benefit from it."

"What if someone sees him?" asked Monica.

"Dobby not be seen when master and mistresses have muggle guests," said Dobby. "The great and kind Harry Potter made sure Dobby knows this."

With another sigh, Wendell threw his hands in the air and said, "Why the hell not. It's fine by me."

Monica nodded in acceptance.

"Hermione, as the only one with magic, it falls to you to form the bond," said Harry, who then reached in to a pocket and withdrew a small sheet of parchment. "You place your right hand on his forehead and recite this. He will then recite his own oath back to you. Magic then forms the bond."

"Alright, Harry," she said.

With a squeal of glee Dobby moved to stand in front of Hermione as if he'd teleported there. He was almost vibrating up and down in happiness.

Hermione accepted the parchment off Harry and read through it. She then reached out and placed her right hand on Dobby's head as he bowed it forward into her hand. She read, "I, Hermione Jean Granger, Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger, accept Dobby in service as Head Elf for my House. My magic is your magic. Your magic is my magic."

Dobby intoned back, "I, Dobby, accept service with the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger. Your magic is my magic. My magic is your magic."

A golden aura surrounded both Hermione and Dobby for a few moments before it faded away. Her parents looked amazed by what they saw; as they, too, saw the glow.

When she removed her hand from Dobby's head, the little elf physically looked stronger.

"Yi-hoo!" the little elf said with a little fist pump and jump in the air, before he dived forward and hugged Hermione around her legs. "Thank you, Mistress!" he exclaimed, before he went and took Monica's right hand, holding it in both his own and touched it to his forehead with fingers palm out. he moved on to Wendell and did the same.

"What was that?" asked Wendell.

"He was recognising you as members of the Dagworth-Granger household," said Daphne. "Harry's elves did the same to me when he introduced me as his betrothed."

"We'll have to find you a place to sleep," said Monica, suddenly.

"Dobby find, Mistress," he replied. "You not need to worry."

"Dobby," said Harry. "Why don't you show your new family what it is you can do for them?"

Dobby turned to Hermione and asked, "May I, Mistress?"

With an initial look of surprise at Dobby referring to her wishes, she replied, "Yes, please, Dobby."

With Dobby's form almost blurring in speed, the tea setting was refreshed, the cushions and throw rugs on couches and armchairs were straightened, a loose curtain was retied, and he was gone.

Monica and Wendell sat forward in surprise. "What on earth...?" said Wendell.

"He'll already be moving through the rest of the house now," said Cygnus with a smile. "They _really_ enjoy their work."

He then reached into his jacket and removed a small book. "This is all about house elves in general and the bond of a house elf to a House. It explains it in detail. Then goes on to tell you a lot of what they can do for you. It also tells you how you break a bond if you feel it necessary.

"But, in a nutshell, _never_ hand a house elf an item of clothing. Ever. That's how Harry tricked Dobby's previous master to release him."

"I put a sock inside a book," said Harry. "Then I gave the book to the abusive master and engineered it so that the master handed the book to Dobby. In that way, the master gave Dobby an item of clothing. And Dobby was freed."

"Clever," snorted Wendell. "And thanks for telling us."

"But how is Dobby now wearing clothing?" asked Hermione.

"I told him how _I_ wanted him dressed," said Harry. "He took care of the rest. That way I didn't offer him clothing."

"Again, clever," said Wendell.

"So you need to develop the habit of not offering him an item of clothing in any form," said Cygnus. "If you pick up an item of clothing, hand it to him and ask him to put it away for you, you've just offered him clothing, and the bond is broken.

"However, if you point to an item of clothing and ask him to put it away for you, then you haven't offered it. That's similar to Harry _telling_ Dobby what he wanted him to wear, rather than _giving_ him the clothes to wear."

"Secondly, anyone else can offer him clothing and the bond won't be broken," said Harry. "Say you have a wizarding visitor. The visitor arrives, Dobby will pop in and accept the wizard's cloak to be put away until they're ready to leave again. That's not considered as being offered clothing. This is why I had to get the abusive master to give Dobby the sock, instead of giving it to him myself."

Dobby popped back in and said, "Dobby found a place to sleep in attic. Dobby will be very happy there. Does mistresses and master have a choice for dinner?"

He then looked right at Monica and waited a moment or two.

Monica looked like she was going to say something before Dobby said, "Dobby knows now. Dobby will cook." And he popped away again.

A moment later Cygnus guffawed, "Cheeky little ratbag."

"What just happened?" asked Monica.

"He asked you what you were thinking of to cook for dinner," said Cygnus. "This made you immediately think of it and he read your mind. He now knows what you were thinking of cooking or preparing and he's going to do it for you - as a good house elf should.

"House elves pride themselves on anticipating the needs of their house," he further explained. "Therefore, they use a special form of Legilimency - mind reading - to find out what you want pretty much before you, yourself, know what you want or need.

"In this way, they can do what they need to do without having to keep coming to you and asking. However, he's only allowed to do it for you three, as you three are of this house; and any of your guests you have with you at the time."

"This is going to take some getting used to," said Monica.

"Your biggest problem is going to be boredom," said Isabel. "Because Dobby will now be taking care of all the chores, the time you dedicated to doing those things yourself will now be done by him in moments; silently and efficiently.

"I suggest taking on a hobby," she smiled.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	48. Dobby's Home

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Eight – Dobby's Home**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A couple of weeks later, Harry floo'ed directly to the office of Amelia Bones within the DMLE. He was joined by Daphne. And met Aunt Amelia and Susan there.

Aunt Amelia took them down to the MLE training facility where there were a number of aurors waiting for them.

"Listen up!" she called as soon as she walked in. The room fell silent.

"Hey, I can do that to the entire Great Hall at Hogwarts and I don't even have to say anything," snarked Harry.

"Harry," growled Daphne while Susan smiled at him. Aunt Amelia just turned to him and rolled her eyes.

Turning back to the aurors, she said, "You're all here because you are all having difficulty mastering the Patronus Charm. You're here to learn how to cast it, quickly and efficiently."

The aurors, older adults all, looked back with puzzlement or consternation.

Turning to Harry, Aunt Amelia said, "The floor is yours, Mister Potter."

Madam Bones," said one of the older aurors. "Surely you don't mean for a child to try to teach us such an advanced charm?"

"Auror Dawlish!" she barked back.

Harry held his hand up to stop her and said, "Madam Bones, I believe the floor is mine?"

She hesitated a moment, before she reluctantly nodded.

Harry turned back to the auror and said, "Auror Dawlish, right?"

The man just gave a curt nod.

"Since you seem to be an expert on who can and cannot cast the Patronus Charm," said Harry. "Then perhaps you'd be kind enough to show us yours?"

The man just glared back.

"Hmmm..." said Harry after a few moments. "Then it appears you don't know who can and cannot cast a patronus, after all. But, I guess you need proof."

"Observe, please," he said. Popping his wand out he gathered both his magic and his memory and cast.

Prongs emerged and stood in the centre of the room looking at all the aurors for a few moments. That had them either gasping in shock or simply turning to their comrades and whispering among themselves.

When Prongs turned to look at Harry, Harry said, "Thank you, Prongs. You may go." And the patronus faded away.

He said, "However, maybe you're standing there thinking 'Well, of course, he can cast a patronus. After all, he's the Boy-Who-Lived.' So, let's dispel that load of flobberworm dung, too, shall we?"

Turning to Susan and Daphne, he asked, "Ladies? Would you like to show them yours?"

Susan coyly said, "Now, Harry; that's not a nice thing to ask a lady, you naughty boy."

Most of the aurors just burst out laughing, while a quite shocked Amelia exclaimed, "_Susan!_"

Harry blushed to the tip of his toes.

A clearly _un_chagrined Susan impudently grinned back while Daphne just softly smiled. Then both closed their eyes for a moment and cast. Susan's Alsatian leapt forth at almost the same time as Daphne's swan. The Alsatian stood in the room looking around, while the swan gracefully circled overhead. That had all the aurors chatting animatedly among themselves.

Both girls held them for a while before letting them go.

After a few moments, Harry got his embarrassment under control and said, "Now, I taught both these young ladies to cast their _clearly_ fully corporeal patronuses. Madam Bones has asked me - in that soft-spoken kindly manner she has - to come and teach _you_."

That earned him a few chuckles from the aurors and a glare from Aunt Amelia.

"So, Auror Dawlish, instead of worrying about being _taught_ by a twelve year old. You should, perhaps, worry about whether or not you have the ability to _learn_ from a twelve year old," smirked Harry.

Holding the smile on the unfortunate auror for only a moment, he turned back to the wider audience, clapped his hands down low together once, and said, "Let's get started, shall we?"

"Up against the back wall, please," he said. "Let's try and form ranks as we do so."

A bit of shuffling and the aurors formed reasonably straight ranks.

"Excellent," said Harry. "Hands up those of you who are fathers."

About half a dozen raised their hands.

"Thank you for volunteering," said Harry. "Please come to the front row."

There were a few good natured jibes and chuckles from the others but the six men stepped forward and spread across the width of the room.

"All of you can listen to this, because I'm not fond of repeating myself - something I'm sure you've all heard said to you before..." more sniggers and chuckles, "... I know you've all been taught _how_ to cast this charm, yet it doesn't work for you. That's because, I daresay, the one who originally designed this charm was probably a man; and you ladies will all know just how hard it is to get a man to talk about - love."

More muttering - especially from the ladies.

"You've all been told this charm requires a happy thought to power it. However, that happy thought also needs to include love. That's the _real_ emotion needed for this charm to work. The more love involved in the happy memory, the stronger the power behind the charm.

"So - you six. Wands out and, if you feel you need to, eyes closed," he firmly said before changing his choice to a softer one with a slower cadence. "I want you to remember back. I want you to remember back to the day your first child was born. I want you to remember what it was like - that moment - when you first held your infant child in your arms. Do not deny it, you felt fear - Oh sweet Merlin I've got an infant! I don't know how to be a father! What the hell am I supposed to do? - You felt excitement - Woohoo! I'm a father! - you felt pride - Yeah, see what we did! Are we just the best or what!

"But, beneath it all - when those initial emotions are swept away - this was _your_ child you were holding. It's laying there in your arms. _You_ are responsible for this new life. And, in your head, you're probably making a personal vow to keep this precious one safe. Why? Because, as soon as you laid eyes on it, you fell in love.

"Grab that emotion now. Hold tight to that love you felt _then_ and are feeling _now_. Let it infuse your _very_ being," said Harry softly as he walked to the first person in the line. "And when it infuses you, cast. "_Expecto Patronum_."

Almost as one, six arms lifted and cast. And five corporeal patronuses leapt forth. The sixth _almost_ made it.

Harry heard a male voice mutter, "Sweet Merlin above!" from the next row of aurors. Followed by some excited whispering among the others.

Harry immediately walked over to the man who didn't quite make it and said, "_Feel_ the love. Let it _infuse_ you. Let it _fill you up_ - only then, cast."

That time he got it.

Walking back to where he stood first, Harry said, "Not really that hard, after all; is it, folks?" He hesitated a few moments, and said, "Alright you six. You know what you have to do. This time you do it without my coaching, and in your own time. Go for it."

A few seconds later, six patronuses were standing, flying or cavorting not far in front of the first rank of aurors.

As they let them fade away, he said, "Alright gentlemen. Thank you. Please come and stand over here out of the way for the next victims - I mean, volunteers."

Waiting for the men to step aside, he said, "Alright folks, for me it gets a little harder. Do we have any mothers who feel they can use the love they felt for their baby when it was first placed in their arms? Come forth and try."

Two women stepped forward.

"Good. No doubt, you were listening carefully to what I was saying to the first six..."

Harry eventually made it through the twenty-odd aurors who were there to learn. Daphne and Susan even stepped forward to help some of the women who didn't want a male to try and talk to them about the feeling of love. Aunt Amelia even helped with one struggler.

Only two at the end of the day could only conjure a misty shield, even after one-on-one coaching. However, it was better than they'd had in the past. He was not surprised one of those aurors was Auror Dawlish - The snarky one.

He even spent the time to teach them how to use the patronus as a messenger because - as he argued to Madam Bones - it could come in handy to call in reinforcements or direct a battle with diverse forces. Except for the two who could only cast shields he split the group in two and had them send messages to one another.

One young wag even sent a snarky messenger patronus to an instructor who said they'd _never_ be able to cast a patronus. That led to laughter from the group but earned her an eye-roll and mild rebuke from Aunt Amelia.

With that many patronuses running, jumping, slithering or flying throughout the room no one could hold any emotion but happiness.

However, that messaged instructor came running in a few minutes later and was quite gobsmacked by what he found in the large training room. The instructor looked straight at the young auror and demanded, "How did you _do_ that?"

So, Harry had to teach the man how to cast a messenger patronus, for himself.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The rest of the holidays were filled with lazy days and some outings. Eventually, the hubbub over the basilisk passed and the boys were allowed more time without being harassed by people wanting to talk to either of them about fighting the beast.

On one of first trips into the Alley he went in to talk to the goblins about harvesting the creature. They assured him it could be done and somehow used his memory of his and Neville's slide down the pipe to roughly locate where it was in relation to Myrtle's bathroom.

However, after a couple of weeks they still could not find the Chamber using auto-timed portkeys going in an out. So Neville suggested using a house elf's apparition magic to get in there with a locator beacon.

Petey volunteered and was able to use his link to Harry to pop through to the pipe beyond the sink. And then pop through to the other side of the stone door with the snakes. He took with him a portkey locator beacon and set it on the floor in the middle of the chamber not far from the basilisk carcass.

Once he'd activated it he popped back directly to Harry.

The goblins then used the locator beacon to get in there and harvest the carcass. Harry also asked them to leave the bones of the beast whole and wire them together similar to how dinosaur bones were done in museums and the like.

They did that for him, and shrunk the skeleton right down. Harry had plans to see the skeleton suspended from the ceiling in the Trophy Room of the castle; and Neville agreed.

Once everything was done, he and Neville equally divided the gold between themselves. Neville planned on using some of his to build and stock a brand new greenhouse at Longbottom Hall.

Harry had no plans for his own gold at that point, so just left it in his vault.

Another activity he engaged in with Neville was to write up an article for The Quibbler. After the two of them wrote down what happened - but, leaving out anything of a sensitive nature - Harry sent a message to Luna to contact them when she and her father were back home.

He'd learned from a letter he'd received from Ginny that Luna and her father had gone overseas hunting strange and mythical magical creatures.

And, speaking of Ginny, the young girl was keeping her promise and writing to him every so often, letting him know how she was getting on with her treatment with the mind healer. Harry was happy for her she was doing that. But, upset to learn she really did have holdover mental problems from her time while in thrall. At least it was being dealt with.

However, it seemed Mister Weasley the senior had won a prize pool through the Daily Prophet of 500₲ and had taken Ginny, along with Molly, Ronald and the twins on holiday to Egypt, where they would meet up with their eldest son - and Ginny's favourite brother - Bill.

But, thankfully, Ginny continued to write to both him and her nice lady mind healer while she was overseas.

Harry had the annoying problem, over summer, that his voice was breaking. He knew it would happen sooner or later, but it was still a nuisance. He had to take to whispering his incantations to get them to work when he was practicing.

Daphne thought it was cute and Astoria kept asking him to talk to her. Every time his voice cracked - or, worse, warbled - she'd crack up laughing.

The case against Gilderoy Lockhart, whose real name turned out to actually be Roy Schlock, finally reached the courtroom stage and Harry was a pivotal witness. He spoke both about the reality behind the books, and about his time as a student under the man's so-called tutelage.

At the end of the trial, Lockhart - Schlock - had lost everything. He ended up owing far more than he lost in damages and had to claim bankruptcy. However, that mattered little as he was sentenced to five years in Azkaban in the minimum - no dementors - section of the prison.

He had sought help from his publishers but, as they were having to cough up gold left, right and centre to people demanding refunds to their books written by the man, they were not in the helping mood.

Harry's blurb had found a wider audience through The Quibbler after Luna asked him if she could print it. He'd tried to throw her off the author being him but he eventually just sighed and said, "Yes."

She gave him a warm and gentle hug and it appeared a few days later. She refused to divulge from whom she sought permission to print it claiming 'a good investigative reporter did not give up their sources'.

No, the publisher, Obscurus Books, were in enough trouble of their own and also had to pay damages to Harry. However, the publisher and chief editor escaped prison time.

Lockhart's biggest complaint was that he believed someone was clearly blocking his fan-mail from reaching him. And wanted an investigation into the cause so it would be stopped.

Late in the summer and only a couple of weeks before heading back to school for their third year Harry, Daphne, Astoria and Isabel were in the Alley carrying out their shopping. Harry spotted a large crowd around the window of Quality Quidditch Supplies and wanted to investigate. When he was finally able to get through, he saw hovering within the window display a broom. A beautiful, glorious new type of broom. It was called a Firebolt and was the creation of a new broom company called _Bolt_.

He remembered reading about that company the morning he and Daphne spent at Lily's Pad hiding from Dumbledore. He remembered this was the broom that they'd plan to release by Christmas last year. But, were delayed by both legal wrangling from Comet and Nimbus, who didn't believe Britain could afford another manufacturer, and supposed 'technical difficulties'.

He read through the blurb on the card:

**Firebolt by Bolt  
**Streamlined, superfine handle of ash, treated with a diamond-hard polish  
Hand-numbered with its own registration number  
Tail twigs of birch, individually selected and honed to aerodynamic perfection  
Unsurpassable balance  
Pinpoint precision  
Acceleration of 150 mph in 10 seconds  
Unbreakable Braking Charm  
When you pick it up then let go, it hovers at exactly the right height to mount  
Turns with the lightest touch. Seems to obey thought, rather than grip  
Superbly smooth action

The three points of most interest to Harry in order were; that it accelerated to 150mph in ten seconds, pinpoint precision, and that it turned with the lightest touch.

He took a quick look at the price and it said POA₲. He wanted one - no; two. He now knew what he was going to spend some of his gold on.

Over at Madam Malkin's with Daphne and Astoria he was soon outfitted with yet another set of new school robes. And yet another casual wardrobe that both Daphne and Astoria insisted on 'helping' him with.

Again, he ended up purchasing far more than he thought he'd ever wear. He even mentioned how there were still clothes he'd been forced to buy last year and still hadn't worn. They were going off to the second-hand shops brand new. However, he tolerated it in the end because it made Daphne, and now Astoria, very happy to use him like a dress-up doll.

In return for 'using' him like that, they promised to allow him time in the Quidditch store while they were in the Alley. He just didn't realise they meant as soon as they were telling him what clothes he was to buy.

Once he was fitted out with clothes, the girls shooed him out of the door as they needed to look at 'unmentionables and stuff'. And that he was to wait for them at Floreans - the ice cream shop - for when they were done. That was quite alright for Harry.

He was out the door and over in the Quidditch store faster than you can say 'Ravenclaw wins the Quidditch Cup!'

Inside, he finally managed to corner the proprietor to talk to him about the Firebolt.

"Look, kid," sighed the man. "If you need to ask how much it is, you can't afford it, alright?"

"Well, that's just charming, Quincy" retorted Harry. "Here I was, your supposed friend Harry Potter, wanting to actually _buy_ a Firebolt, and you talk to me like _that_?"

Startled the man, gaped and said, "Sorry, Harry. I didn't recognise you. You've grown some. And, I keep thinking of you with glasses."

"Yeah, well; you're forgiven," he said. "Now, the broom?"

"Oh, yeah," said the proprietor. "The price is on application. You apply for one of their brooms, and then they'll let you know the price. If you accept, in return you get an individually numbered broom, with your name engraved in the handle, and filled with a small amount of gold."

"Alright," said Harry. "I want two. For this, I don't mind if you use my name to see me put at the top of the queue for them. If I can, I'd like broom number seven. If not. I'll take the lowest numbers available."

The proprietor led Harry over to his counter, offered him two copies of the application form, and told him what to fill out and where.

After filling out and signing both, Harry paid the 200₲ upfront payment and handed the application forms over. The proprietor told him that, as soon as the brooms were ready and winging their way to Harry, the remaining money would be deducted direct from his account.

"How many applications have you processed ahead of me?" asked Harry.

"Two," said the proprietor. "So I like your chances of getting Broom number seven. It just depends on how many have been sold through the other two stores in magical Britain, and how well their intent to sell them overseas is going."

As soon as he arrived at Floreans, he looked to see if the girls were there yet; as he'd been longer in the Quidditch shop than he anticipated. However, they were not. He ordered for himself a nice sundae and waited.

After what he felt was an interminable amount of time, the girls and Isabel finally arrived at the shop but, before they'd even ordered anything, they were dragging him off to finish shopping.

By the time they were finished he was glad to return to the Estate, only to be told they were going shopping again the next day, but this time to muggle London. And he had to go along both to buy clothes of his own and to help carry bags when they needed to be carried.

He groaned.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The week before the return to school, Sirius excitedly floo'ed to Greengrass Estate with Remus in tow and immediately asked to speak with Harry.

When Harry entered his godfather practically picked him up and spun him around, laughing all the time. Even Remus was grinning wide enough it looked like it was going to reach his ears.

"Padfoot!" yelled Harry. "What's gotten in to you? Have you been sniffing poppies in your animagus form again?"

Sirius barked in laughter and said, "No! We caught Pettigrew!"

Harry's eyes widened and asked, "Really?"

"Really really!" replied Sirius laughing.

"_How_? Where?" asked Harry, his own excitement rising.

"Pure dumb luck is how!" replied Sirius calming down.

With them all taking seats, Sirius explained, "Back in late June, Arthur Weasley won five hundred Galleons from the Daily Prophet in a competition. He and Molly decided to use part of their winnings to take their family on a holiday to Egypt."

"Ginny told me about that," said Harry. "I was concerned she'd miss out on her sessions with the mind-healer while they were away."

Nodding, Sirius continued, "Well, you may also remember the picture of the family - that is, the family without the older two boys, Bill and Charlie - appeared on the front page of the Prophet. In that photo young Ronald, the youngest boy, had a small brown rat perched on his shoulder..."

"Wait," said Harry, understanding. "Not Pettigrew!"

Nodding again with a grim smile, Sirius replied, "Yes, Pettigrew. Remus and I both recognised him immediately. And the photo also clearly showed the rat was missing his left little finger - or claw.

"I was all set to hare off straight to the Weasley's place, the Burrow, but Remus made me see reason..." the other man smiled "... and we went and saw your Aunt Amelia instead.

"A small team of aurors, and us two, then headed straight to The Burrow to capture the rat. However, by then, the family had already left for Egypt. Actually, they'd left the day earlier, so my heading directly there wouldn't have made a difference."

"Damn it," sighed Harry, temporarily forgetting they'd already told him the rat was caught.

"Hang on, Cub," said Remus. "Let him tell the rest of it."

Harry nodded and turned back to his smiling godfather.

"Since they were already gone, and the rat must've gone with them, we thought it best to wait for them to return. They did; this morning.

"Amelia and two of her most trusted aurors were waiting at the International floo arrival point. It is a regulation that pets are to be caged for international travel. So, they just needed to see and secure the cage he was in.

"As the Weasleys arrived the two aurors immediately took control of the cage, held by young Ronald in his hand, stunned the rat and took him away, cage and all. The Weasleys were only told the rat was an illegal animagus wanted for questioning; not of whom.

"He's now sitting in a holding cell at the DMLE offices at the Ministry, forced out of his animagus form. And the dirty rat is singing like a canary!" he finished with glee.

Harry yelled, "Yes!" And jumped up and danced around in exuberant happiness. He was quickly grabbed in a three-way hug by Sirius and Remus, who were also jumping up and down in happiness.

Once they'd calmed down again, Sirius said, "_But!_ This needs to be kept under wraps, for now. No one can know about it. Not even your friends. They're pumping the rat full of Veritaserum to get as much information out of him as they can. He's one of the rare half-bloods who joined Voldemort's ranks, so he's not protected by the law that forbids the use of Veritaserum on purebloods. They're hoping he'll spill the beans on Voldemort's Inner Circle.

"Then, they're going to raid each and every one of them, bringing them all in! Malfoy and his cronies are going _down_!"

Again, there was a three-way hug as the three danced around in happiness.

From where he was leaning on the jamb in the doorway, Cygnus laughed at their antics.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the 1st of September they were back on Platform 9 ¾ ready to start their third year of Hogwarts. Harry was as nervous as all get out as the raids to arrest the 'Imperioused' - and other, until now, unknown - 'ex' Death Eaters was taking place that morning.

The raids had to be delayed as some of the more prominent members were overseas on holidays. However, they all had children that attended Hogwarts, and had to be back in time for the Express.

The aurors were using that to their advantage. It meant a lot of the people they wanted to arrest would all be out from under their protective wards, while seeing their children off to school. The aurors were stationed at the floo arrival point over at the old Hotel, and at the known apparition points outside the barrier.

On the platform they were using anti-portkey and anti-apparition wards to stop people leaving directly from the platform. People were being told it was a snap auror training and logistics testing operation in dealing with many people in the event of an attack, to cover up the real reason.

The Greengrasses knew what was going on, and why Harry was so fidgety, but none of their other friends, except Susan, knew why.

"What's gotten into you, Harry?" asked Tracey, concerned for him, as they were standing on the platform. "Are you _that_ nervous about returning to school?"

"Something like that," he muttered in reply. Susan looked at him and gave him a knowing smile, but didn't say anything.

Hermione came through the barrier wheeling her own trolley with her trunk onboard, with a pet carrier on top of that. And she was grinning like a loon.

"What have you got there, Hermione?" asked Neville.

"This is my new familiar, Crookshanks," she replied. "He's part kneazle and part tortoiseshell house cat. And he's _really_ smart."

Harry looked into the cage opening and said, "Good Lord, it looks like someone hit him in the face with a house brick."

"Harry!" scolded Hermione. The cat growled and hissed back. "He's beautiful!" she said, in defence of her familiar.

"You've bonded with him?" asked Harry.

Hermione looked a little afraid before she said, "No, I don't think I need to. And..."

"And the idea scares you," he said, finishing for her. "It's only something to do if you really feel the need to."

She nodded.

"I take it, as he's part magical, you went into a pet shop in Diagon and felt a strong pull in his direction?" he asked.

She nodded, "Yesterday. I just knew I had to have him."

"That's the bond, Hermione," said Harry. "It's a natural familial bond. Congratulations."

She nodded again, accepting the unspoken apology. "Thank you, Harry."

Daphne also had a pet carrier. She'd finally decided on purchasing an all black adolescent female cat with green-flecked eyes. She'd named it 'Midnight'.

Harry honestly thought it actually _was_ a beautiful cat.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the trip to the castle, Luna didn't join them, this time. She said she wanted to go and talk with her old friend, Ginny, first. She wanted to make sure she was alright.

When Harry went looking for her, to make sure _she_ was alright, he found the two girls chatting away, happily together. He didn't disturb them. He was glad the two were renewing their friendship. Clearly, this was a happy side-effect of Ginny's time with the mind-healer.

He also sought out Astoria and saw her talking to a group of girls her own age. Again, he didn't want to disturb them, so snuck away before they saw him.

He told the others what he'd found when he returned to 'their' compartment.

During the trip, Hermione told them all about how Wendell was frustrated with Dobby. He was going to ask Harry to take him back, but Monica refused to hear about it.

Apparently, Wendell thought of some chores as a form of relaxation. When he wanted to just stop and think, he'd go out and wash the car or do something else equally menial. However, when he took a bucket of hot soapy water out to wash the car, he found it already clean both inside and out. So, he went and got the car polish to polish it and set to work. Dobby chatted amiably with him while he watched Wendell polish. From then on, Dobby did it.

She also mentioned how her father would occasionally like to go and hunt red grouse, commonly known as moorfowl in Britain, during the last two weeks of the summer holiday. To do this he had a pair of shotguns. Again, Dobby watched him carefully strip, clean and oil both guns. And then took on the role himself.

For Monica, she enjoyed cooking for pleasure and loved to learn and try new recipes. After an initial argument over responsibilities in the kitchen, she and Dobby reached an accord. She was 'allowed' in the kitchen so long as she taught Dobby new recipes for meals the family loved, and how to use the electric appliances. In return, Dobby taught her new recipes.

After the first few weeks they happily worked together in harmony. Harry knew Dobby was only humouring his mistress, because he could pull the information on how to do all that simply by reading her mind. It amused him the level of slyness Dobby exhibited.

Monica also liked to have the outside gardens looking nice. She would use planting new annuals and biennials in their large garden as the same form of menial, mind-clearing labour as Wendell used to wash and polish the car, or strip and clean his shotguns. However, she was not fond of weeding.

So, Dobby would weed the garden beds and trim up the existing, overgrown plants, while Monica came behind and planted new plants; even though Dobby had offered to do it for her.

However, Monica hated with a long ingrained passion indoor housework - other than cooking - and Dobby was a willing and expert house worker. For that reason, above any other, she was determined Dobby was to stay. If he didn't, _Wendell _would find himself doing all the housework. Argument over.

She didn't know how the little fellow did it, but he was also handling the shopping. So Daphne, Tracey, Susan and Hannah told her how the elves accomplished it.

Harry found that part of the conversation quite interesting. He had no idea there was a muggle supermarket that secretly opened at night for the house elves to shop. Apparently, it was run by the family of a squib.

They mentioned how the shop had large blinds they would pull down over the front windows and run through the night. When anyone asked what they were doing, the family would originally merely say they were running an overnight stocktake. Now there was a special set of wards that were activated that made people simply not ask.

Hermione made note of that to write her mother and let her know.

When they had visitors over on a couple of occasions, Dobby disappeared. However, when Monica went out to make tea for them, the setting would already be set up ready for her to take it out to the guests; complete with suitable biscuits and cake artfully arranged. In the evenings it would be chilled wine or whatever the guest asked for instead.

Dobby was definitely fitting in to the Granger household well. And Harry was happy for both the Grangers and the little elf.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	49. Double Agent

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Forty Nine – Double Agent**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry sat with Luna at the Ravenclaw table for the Sorting and watched with her when Astoria was sorted into Gryffindor. It was a long sort and Harry was sure she'd end up in either Slytherin or Hufflepuff.

He found out later she had a friend who was sorted into Gryffindor House before her, and argued with the Hat. As usual, the Hat relented and gave her what she wanted.

When Dumbledore stood to make announcements Harry was shocked to discover Remus was to be the new Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor. He hadn't even noticed the man sitting at the head table.

Harry had spun to look at him with his own face showing his surprise. Remus looked straight back with a smirk and a very slight brief nod. Though, he wasn't going to be able to have a chat with him tonight, he was definitely going to corner the man the next day and tell him off for not letting him, Harry, know in advance.

The Head Boy and Girl, this year, was Percy Weasley and Penelope Clearwater. Harry met him on the train and struggled to keep his expression neutral when he saw the badge the older boy was wearing said 'Pinhead Boy'.

Percy was sitting, amused, among the new First Years and was getting his ear talked off by young Astoria and her friend. He was happy.

While the Weasley twins often referred to their oft times uptight brother as a Prat, prissy, perfect, pinhead or just a right pain, or a few other alliteral insulting terms, Harry knew the boy to be very concerned for the welfare of the youngest students. He had his respect for that.

This year he seemed determined to be even more so, considering he blamed himself for not keeping a better eye on his sister the previous year. He'd also found out through one of Ginny's letters that the boy was absolutely smitten by the lovely Miss Clearwater; and had maintained an ongoing letter-writing relationship across summer.

He couldn't use that information to his advantage, though; as he'd promised the girl he would never repeat to anyone what she told him, or use it against anyone. He'd told her it was a promise he was willing to keep _unless_ it would specifically place anyone in danger.

Ravenclaw's own crop of 'firsties' didn't include anyone he knew, even in passing. But he was happy to see they all seemed to be getting along, for now. However, he did receive quite a few looks of awe directed his way. But, that was the same across all four Houses. He was already accustomed to it from the beginning of his own first year. Neville was now getting the same. And his mate looked like he didn't know how to handle it. He was going to make sure he talked to him about it, later.

During the meal he talked to a couple of his year mates but also talked with Luna. When he did so, he received a couple of weird looks from them.

Kevin Entwhistle even asked him, "Why do you talk with Loony?"

He glared back at the boy and, with his magic flaring just a little, quietly growled, "Don't _ever_ call her that in my presence, again."

Entwhistle looked frightened and stammered, "I didn't mean anything by it. It's what _every_one calls her."

"_Never_ again, you understand?" said Harry firmly. "Her name is Luna. Calling her that _horrid_ name is bullying; and I do not abide bullies. And, you'd best tell everyone else you hear call her that, too."

The boy nodded his head rapidly and turned to the others on the other side of him.

At end of the meal Dumbledore stood to make his brief announcements before sending everyone off to bed.

Harry waited out in the Entrance Hall for Daphne, and was able to snag her by the arm as she walked out talking with Tracey. Her reactions were fast, too; as she damned near hexed him on the spot.

He pulled her off to the side behind the door and she gave him a serve about scaring her. He apologised and just kissed her.

"I just wanted a goodnight kiss before I headed for bed," said Harry. "I'd hoped you wanted one, too."

She then kissed him back and said, "I did, too. I just thought you'd already be gone."

With a last 'good night', they both headed for their respective common rooms.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning - Thursday - they received their new class schedules. Harry quickly looked through it and noticed just how much his days were now full. While he still had Astronomy, as it was considered a core subject, he no longer had the entire morning of the next day free. Now, during second period, he had a single of Transfiguration with the 'Puffs.

However, he was furious to learn he did not have Arithmancy. Instead, he'd been put down for Divination. Neville had the problem where Divination had been added to his electives and Ancient Runes removed. Excusing himself from his friends Harry went to see Professor Flitwick while Neville went to see Professor McGonagall.

"Professor?" asked Harry, while his Head of House was still handing out schedules to the older students.

"A problem, Mister Potter?" the professor asked.

"Yes, sir," he replied. "An error has been made in my schedule. My chosen elective of Arithmancy is missing and, instead, I see Divination in the same time frame."

"Alright, Mister Potter," the half-goblin said. "Just allow me to finish handing out these schedules and I'll be right with you."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry, before he returned to his seat with the others.

Right then, the mail owls swooped in. Harry distractedly accepted the Daily Prophet from Hedwig and fed her a couple of bacon strips and an owl treat, before she barked at him for not paying her attention.

"Sorry, Hed," he softly said to her and smiled. "I'm distracted with another matter. I promise to pay more attention tomorrow."

When Hedwig flew off he put his folded newspaper down without reading it. He'd get to it later.

Once the professor had handed the last schedules out to the Seventh Year Ravenclaws he returned to Harry and asked, "What seems to be the problem, Mister Potter?"

"Thank you, sir," said Harry. "It seems I have been erroneously put down for Divination instead of Arithmancy." And handed his schedule back.

Frowning at the schedule, the Professor said, "I see. Then I suggest you head to Arithmancy after breakfast, as you would have a double period of that, and I shall make the relevant changes and return this to you at lunch. Is this suitable for you?"

"Yes, sir," replied Harry. "Thank you."

When Neville returned he wasn't happy. "It appears the Headmaster informed Professor McGonagall he has used his veto power to overrule my choice as the two classes conflict. Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes are on at the same time. He added Divination.

"Well, that's crap. He can only do that if your marks reflect you'd be unable to handle the coursework. And, as you're in the top fifteen percent of students on our year. You most clearly _can_."

"Do _you_ want to do Divination?" asked Hannah.

"No. But, I've heard it's supposed to be an easy pass," replied the other boy, frowning at his schedule and forgetting that Hannah was taking it.

"I have a fair idea what the Headmaster is up to, because he also altered _my_ schedule so I'd take Divination," said Harry. "If you don't want to take it, then tell Professor McGonagall you're informing her - not asking her permission - that you're dropping it.

"The Headmaster may have the veto power to _not_ allow you to take an elective. But he _cannot_ force you to take an elective you do not want to. And, _every_ student has the right to drop out of an elective at _any_ time they so choose. That includes before you even start.

"_Then_, we will see how long it takes them to allow you to do Ancient Runes. There _has_ to be a way to do it because Hermione is also taking both subjects. Merlin, she's taking all _five_."

"Harry's right, said Hermione. "There _is_ a way to take both. But I'm not allowed to tell you, myself. Professor McGonagall can, though."

"Even if I _still_ can't take Ancient Runes," said Neville, "I'd choose Muggle Studies, or even Arithmancy. And there's no conflict there."

Hermione stood up and said, "Come on, Neville. Let's get this sorted out."

The two rose and headed back over to talk to Professor McGonagall. There was quite a bit of talking before Professor McGonagall finally took Neville's copy of his schedule and left.

When their two friends returned to their table, Hermione said, "I don't understand it. She seemed _utterly_ determined Neville take Divination. It took him having to formally tell her he was dropping Divination, as was his right, before she finally said she would see about changing him to Ancient Runes or Arithmancy. But she really wasn't happy about it."

"She says she'll come back and see me at lunch with her answer," said Neville. "In the mean time, I'm to attend Divination, this morning."

"Rubbish!" said Harry. "That's counter to what Professor Flitwick told me. Why don't you come to Arithmancy with us and see if you like it? If nothing else, it'll give you a better idea about the subject if you have to make a choice at lunch."

Neville thought about that for a few moments before he sighed and said, "So long as I won't get in trouble, why not."

"Good man," said Harry smiling back.

"Well, we've got texts to collect and head to class," said Hermione. "Care to escort me, Neville?"

After quickly ducking up to his dorm to pick up his Arithmancy text, Harry headed down to class.

He was happy to see Neville with Hermione and waiting to be allowed in. They were joined by Daphne, Tracey and Susan. Hannah actually _wanted_ to take Divination.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The class turned out, to Harry's relief, to be as interesting as the text book he'd already read for the subject alluded it to be. Even Neville enjoyed it. Professor Vector was happy to have him in the class, even if it might prove to be only for the first day.

At lunch, Harry was approached by Professor Flitwick immediately after walking into the Great Hall. The professor told him that his schedule was now properly set with him attending Arithmancy, and that Professors Trelawney and Vector had been advised. Harry suspected the man didn't even tell Dumbledore he did it.

However, Neville was told by Professor McGonagall that she could not convince the Headmaster to allow him to take Ancient Runes. And that both he and Harry would have to take Divination.

Neville immediately told her that was not suitable and that he was formally dropping Divination anyhow. He would, instead, take Muggle Studies or Arithmancy.

"I flat out _refuse_ to take Divination, Professor," he firmly said. "And the Headmaster is not permitted to deny me dropping the subject. So, I either now take Muggle Studies or Arithmancy as my second elective - and I think I'd prefer Arithmancy of the two - or, I only take the _one_ elective of Care of Magical Creatures. I will then discuss matters with my grandmother, Dowager Lady Longbottom; Regent Longbottom."

"Are you _threatening_ me, Mister Longbottom?" she glared.

"_No, Ma'am!_" he firmly replied. "I am informing you of my decision as the school rules require me to do."

While the Professor stood there glaring back at Neville. Harry said, "As for me taking Divination, Professor; I have already discussed the matter with my Head of House and had the - error - in my scheduling corrected. I'm now taking Arithmancy instead of Divination, as was arranged last year.

"If the Headmaster is still of the mind to refuse me in this; then he will submit to me, in writing, his reasons. I will then take it to the School Board as a formal complaint. And, no, this is not a threat, either. This is the logical progression of events that _will_ occur should the Headmaster retain his obstinacy.

"If he _still_ can't see reason, and _only_ then, then tell him this exact quote: 'Born as the seventh month dies'. You might find his immediate reaction quite amusing."

Professor McGonagall stood there for a few long moments more before she said, "That _won't_ be necessary."

Turning to Neville, she said, "You may take Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes. If you also want to add Muggle Studies, Arithmancy or both, you may. Just send me a note when you decide by the end of tomorrow."

Then, turning to Hermione, she said, "You may show him the artefact. And you may allow him to share it with you - together. But it will remain in your possession. All other rules apply."

Without waiting for a response, she turned and strode away. Clearly angry.

It was also at lunch that Harry finally had the chance to read his copy of the Daily Prophet. And, right there on the front page, was details about the arrest and questioning under Veritaserum of Pettigrew, and the results of all the raids carried out the previous morning as a result of that initial arrest.

The list of names was substantial. At least half a dozen of those names were for people who sat upon the Wizengamot.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Dumbledore was focussed on paperwork and working diligently through it when his visitor alert ward went off moments before the door was flung open.

Professor McGonagall stormed in, fuming.

"Minerva...?" he began to ask.

"Shove it, Albus!" she said. "Mister Longbottom will _not_ be taking Divination. He will be taking Ancient Runes and any _other_ elective he so desires. As his Head of House, I so order it!

"Mister Potter will also not be taking Divination, he will be taking Arithmancy. As his Head of House, _Filius_ has so ordered it!

"If you attempt to change this, in _any_ way, you will be explaining your reasonings before a full sitting of the School Board. As was _very_ well pointed out to me by _both_ boys, you have the right to deny them taking an elective. However, your reasonings behind such must be sound _and_ in writing. And you certainly have _no_ right to force then to take one, no matter how _much_ you want them to. _Leave it be!_" She then spun about and stormed back out.

Dumbledore sighed. He really wanted - probably needed - both boys to take Divination. He needed Harry, at least, to accept that prophecies were real, so that when he told the boy the prophecy, he would accept his fate. _Why_ was the boy being so contrary? And now young Longbottom was acting in the same vein? His experience in the Chamber obviously did wonders for his confidence.

His plans of more than thirteen and a half years in the making were collapsing around his ears. This had been his top priority project since February 1980. And all that work was falling apart due to the primary being so - recalcitrant. And now the secondary was following in his footsteps.

Almost unconsciously he reached for an ever-present lemon drop; popping it into his mouth, before turning his chair to stare out his wide office window towards the mountains in the distance.

What to do? What to do?

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a long and quite stressful day, the Seven retired to their room within the Come and Go Room straight after they were released from Ancient Runes. Neville and Hermione looked more done over than the others, though.

When both said they'd attended both afternoon double classes, the others asked them how.

"I know, for a fact, you two were with the rest of us for the whole double class of Ancient Runes, Hermione," said Harry. "How could you have possibly also been at Care of Magical Creatures?"

"I can't tell you," she replied. "I promised Professor McGonagall."

"Neville?" asked Harry.

"Sorry, Harry," said the boy a bit sheepishly. "I'm now bound by the same promise as Hermione."

Harry looked around at the others. Susan shrugged and said, "The only explanation I have is a 'time turner'. However, those are highly regulated and held by the Department of Mysteries. Other than that, I've got nothing."

"A time turner?" asked Harry.

"Yeah," said Susan. "It's a magical device that allows you to go back in time a few hours at a time. However, they're supposed to be incredibly dangerous if you don't follow very specific instructions for them. That's why they're highly regulated."

Harry sighed and said, "Well, we figured out a very difficult puzzle last year. This will just be one the other five of us will have. Don't worry - Hermione and Neville - we'll figure it out without you breaking your promises."

Happy to change the subject, Neville and Hermione told them how he, Neville, was able to pat and ride a Hippogriff in Care of Magical Creatures. And how Malfoy ignored Hagrid's instruction about how to approach the beast, and got his arm slashed by the creature for being rude. Malfoy was then sent to hospital.

They then set down to do homework. For those who attended Arithmancy, it was learning about certain mathematical tables known as arithmancy tables. For those who took Ancient Runes, it was to start memorising the various runes and what they represented. For Care of Magical Creatures it was on Hippogriffs. Divination did not have homework except for them having to carry with them a 'dream diary'. Hannah had to write in it about her dreams.

Just like last year, this year was going to be quite difficult - even more so. As well as having ten classes instead of seven, for Harry, homework was also longer. Where six inch assignments were the norm in first year, now it was going to be about fifteen inches or two feet.

Training was going to take a back seat to homework _real_ fast. At least this year over summer they'd all managed to keep up some training regimen. So, they weren't as 'rusty' as they were at this time the previous year.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Last class on Friday afternoon was DADA. It was the first opportunity Harry had to talk to his honourary uncle, Remus.

For almost the entire hour Remus had gone over with them what it was they had managed to learn over their previous two years. Of course, very little had been taught during second year, but it was surprising the number of Ravenclaws who had picked up a copy, during that year, of the previous year's text and were working diligently through that.

After Remus collected as much information as he could, he dismissed the class early so that he could set about creating a term plan for the term and then on into the rest of the year. Harry hung back until the rest of the students had filed out.

Turning to Remus he said with a smile, "Nice prank, Moony."

Remus smirked right back and said, "I expected you to come visit me earlier. But, as this was the last class of the last day of the week, I shouldn't be surprised you waited."

"I suppose dear godfather was in on it?" asked Harry.

"Nope," replied Moony with a shrug. "However, I did ask him not to ruin the surprise when he was going to immediately floo call you with the news."

"So, what led you to apply for a position here, then?" he asked.

With another shrug, Moony replied, "I didn't, to tell you the truth. I received an offer from Dumbledore. He said how he knew I was out of work and wanted to know if I'd be interested in taking on the position."

"Oh, did he just?" asked Harry, when the Knut dropped. "Not that I'm complaining that you're here, and all. But, didn't that seem not a little strange to you?"

Moony grinned and replied, "_Very_ strange, actually. We discussed it; and we think Dumbledore more likely offered me the job due to how close I am to you as a honourary uncle. We think he's expecting me to get you to open up to him."

Harry snorted in response. "I'm sorry; but, that was my immediate impression, too."

"Don't be," replied Remus. "I've taken the job so _we_ can spy on _him_. My real job is to wait and see how he tries to use me to get to you. I'm actually looking forward to being a double agent."

Harry laughed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After only two days of classes, the weekend was on them again. As homework was quickly done and set aside, Harry and the others set to train. Acting on a hunch, and without telling the others, Hermione added to the room a pair of combination bathrooms with changing rooms. Testing them out showed they had running hot and cold water and everything.

So, from then on, when they came into their room, the bathroom changing room combination was added. It made it much easier for all of them to take clothes there to change into for the strenuous training, before showering and changing back in to school robes and leaving the room.

As with the previous year, Harry and Daphne also quickly organised their etiquette club. While numbers dwindled significantly and quickly last year - due to the belief Harry was the Heir of Slytherin - they were not letting that suppress their enthusiasm to run it this year. Both also knew that those who had dropped out last year, would be attending this year, instead.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the Monday, the Seven were sitting at the Ravenclaw table for breakfast when the post owls flew in. In came the usual flock of individual owls to deliver letters, notes, small parcels and newspapers. However, also flying in were two sets of three owls carrying a single package between them. A package each that, at first glance, was obvious what they contained. Its shape was quite distinctive.

Hedwig held back with her newspaper as the first trio of owls flew down and lightly dropped their package to hover just above the surface of the table before Harry. They were immediately followed by the second trio who dropped their package almost alongside the first, but one person back. It was centred in front of Daphne.

Daphne looked at the package before her in shock. She reached forward and checked the address and, sure enough, it was hers.

Hedwig then landed and Harry relieved her of her burden before handing two pieces of bacon to the owl.

"Harry," said Daphne.

"Hmm?" asked Harry, giving Hedwig a bit of attention.

"Did you by me a broom?" Daphne quietly asked.

"Mm-hmm."

After Hedwig felt she'd been paid enough attention and flew off, Harry stood and carefully unwrapped his parcel. He seemed quite unconcerned that there were quite a few eyes upon him as he carefully unwrapped it.

He did not hear Simon Martin, team Captain of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, as he came down to stand almost behind him from the other end of the table.

As soon as the packaging fell away. Everyone could see what it was. But, it was Simon Martin who said, "Bloody hell! That's a Firebolt!" He hesitated a bare moment before he spun to look down the length of the Ravenclaw table and calling out, "Snap practice session for the Ravenclaw Quidditch team at 4.30pm, this afternoon!"

On the side of his broom up near the tip of the handle, as promised and hoped for, was his name 'Harry Potter' and the registration number '0007'.

With a wide smile on his face he said to Daphne, "Go on, open yours."

Daphne then stood and unwrapped her own. Her Firebolt had the name 'Daphne Greengrass' and the registration number '0006'.

"I don't believe it," said Simon. "Here I am, looking at _two_ brand new Firebolts. And one belongs to my seeker." A little louder, he said, "I am _so_ glad the Slytherins don't field women on their team!"

Daphne slid her hand along the diamond finish surface of the handle and said, with a look of awe, "You bought me a Firebolt."

"Mm-hmm," smiled Harry, happy for the look of wonder on his betrothed's face. He really liked seeing that expression on her.

She began to laugh before turning to hug him and plant a kiss on his cheek. "Sometimes, you can be right weird, you know that?"

"Hey, I need to keep giving you happy surprises," he said. "I don't want to see you grow bored with me, now do I?"

"Prat!" she laughed, before kissing him on the cheek again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

For his first training session that very afternoon, Harry thought he would be taking it easy. He first moved the broom about as if it was his Nimbus. When it handled the motions and movement flawlessly, he pushed it harder.

The turns were as promised, tight and almost by thought. The acceleration would have led to him having to go to the Infirmary to have birch tail twigs surgically removed from his butt, if not for the beautiful foot rests and his tight grip on the handle. The smoothness of flight led to him flying faster than he thought he was going. And the ride of the seat Cushioning Charm made the seat feel as if he was sitting on a plush armchair.

He realised very quickly his heel skid turns would be almost useless on this broom because the broom turned so well. This broom was going to make him develop muscles in places he didn't expect to when riding a broom and playing Quidditch. And most of those were just so he could hang on.

When he performed a Wronski feint he felt his vision tunnel and felt a little light-headed when he pulled up and started ascending again. That, was going to take some getting used to. But a sloth grip roll saw the broom barely move as he spun about it.

But when he went for a speed run by starting over the Black Lake and accelerated until he shot through one of the hoops at one end of the pitch with a yell that didn't end until he shot through one of the hoops at the other end, he was just glad his safety goggles were the best on the market.

When he came in to land, his own heel brake skid to a stop nearly saw him catapulted over the head of his team members. He practically had to stand the broom on its birch tail twigs and haul back until he was lying almost horizontal to the ground to make it work.

As he hopped off, the broom quickly bobbed up to hip height and sat there, unaffected by the light breeze blowing across the grass of the well maintained pitch.

Finally getting Quidditch training underway, Simon had Roger and Paul try to dog Harry as much as they could. Neither could do it. As soon as they manoeuvred to come up or down on either side of him, like the Slytherin beaters attempt to do, he simply accelerated away from them.

By the time he caught the snitch in less than a couple of minutes for each attempt, staid old Simon was throwing his own aerobatic tricks in the sky, just out of sheer excitement and happiness.

About all anyone could get out of him for five minutes was, "We're going to win the Cup! We're going to win the Cup!" over and over again.

While the first game of the season was the Lions against the Snakes on the 6th November, Ravenclaw's Eagles were up against the Badgers only three weeks later. This meant Simon only needed to get his team back in to shape in eight weeks. Plenty of time. They'd lost none of their team members, this time, due to graduating.

However, Simon was going to use the opportunity to develop newer, and unseen before, plays; ones to aim squarely at Slytherin. His argument was that the Gryffindor seeker was pants at the role. And the Hufflepuff seeker was the only one on their team with any true skill. He felt they could easily gain the 150 point lead needed against the Badgers to make the seeker become moot.

Harry knew he should have warned Simon about just how good young Ginny Weasley could seek. But he felt that would be a betrayal to the Weasley twins, and even her, when they spent so long helping him train for the seeker role in the Eagles.

On returning to the castle for dinner. He took the two boys aside for a chat.

"Hi gents," he said, "Good trip to Egypt?"

"Yeah, the best."

"But, we got grounded for part of it."

"Mum wasn't happy..."

"... When we tried to lock Ron in a tomb."

"But we got some great souvenirs."

"And discovered some new pranks."

Harry thought for a bit and said, "Listen. You two helped me out _a lot_ in learning the seeker position. During that time, we all learned just how good _Ginny_ is in that role. Have you convinced Wood to give her a shot yet?"

Looking warily back, they said, "Not yet."

"What are you up to..."

"... Harrikins?"

"You're not looking..."

"... for the inside scoop..."

"... Are you?"

"No," said Harry with a shake of his head. "I promise you and her both, right now, that what I learned during my times at The Burrow concerning the skill at seeker Ginny displayed, will not be relayed to anyone else; especially, not the Eagles, alright?"

Both boys nodded in return.

"I'd like to see her get her shot," said Harry. "It'll be good for her after what she went through last year. And, Malfoy and his Snakes won't know what's going to hit them."

Both boys grinned. "Thanks, Harrikins!" they said in stereo.

"Alright," he said. "Martin is probably going to kill me for this, _if_ he ever finds out - and it's to stay a secret until her tryout - but I'll loan her my Nimbus 2000 for it and all her games."

"Harrikins!" exclaimed one.

"That'll see her get it!" exclaimed the other.

"Secondly," he went on to say. "If she gets the position, your first game is against the Snakes on the 6th November. For _that_ game only..." he sighed, "... she can use my Firebolt."

Both boys looked at each other in surprise before they both suddenly turned to him and hugged him a three-way hug.

"_Gerroff!_" he said, pushing them away.

When they pulled back, he said, "_But_ - it's to stay a secret that only you two and Ginny may know. Not even Wood is allowed to know. And, especially, not Ron or the Pinhead."

Both boys rapidly nodded.

"I'll also see what we can do about secretly allowing her to borrow the Firebolt _after_ she makes the team on her own merits with the Nimbus." Holding his finger up and wagging it under both their noses, he firmly said, "There will be _no_ dropping of hints about a supposed 'super broom' she'll have access to, to help her win the slot. Alright?"

Both boys rapidly nodded before they, again, both suddenly hugged him a three-way hug.

"Oh, for the _love_ of Merlin!" said Harry with exasperation.

When they pulled back he was sure he saw tears in both their eyes.

"You two are just _weird_," he said, before walking off.

"We love you..."

"... Harrikins!" they called.

"Get stuffed!" he yelled back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	50. Smacked House

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty – Smacked House**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Quickly getting into their new routine, the Seven began to get used to the extra hours spent in class, and the greater amount of homework. The Come and Go Room saw the group spend more time on homework than training, now, but training was still a priority.

Very early one morning Harry had to race back to the Room as he was 'on a roll' with a homework assignment the previous evening and wanted to get it finished. He was past curfew when he raced back to the Ravenclaw common room under his invisibility cloak the night before. He wanted to collect it before breakfast.

Not too far from the entrance, he heard a noise. He thought he heard a girl crying.

Tracking it down he found Luna huddled in an alcove behind a tapestry. She gasped in surprise when the tapestry moved and Harry was standing there.

Immediately realising why she was so shocked, Harry said, "Easy, Luna. It's me, Harry."

He stepped fully in behind the tapestry, popped his wand out of it's holster and cast a Light Charm.

"Luna, why are..." he started to say, before he noticed the girl's condition. He was too shocked to say anything. And she cowered away from him.

Luna had her robe on, but she was barefoot. Under her robes, Harry could see she wasn't well dressed, either. Her hair was a mess and her face showed signs of her crying with her bloodshot eyes, red nose, and light swelling on her upper cheeks. And she was shivering.

"God, Luna," he said. "What happened to you?" Harry was also wearing his cloak, as it was already cold in the mornings. He whipped it off and threw it around the shoulders of the girl before casting a Warming Charm on her.

She just shook her head, pulled the cloak tighter around herself and said, "It's just a prank. It's _always_ just a prank."

"What do you mean - _always_?" he asked.

Luna just pulled in on herself.

"Luna, I need to know," he softly said. "This has happened before and I haven't seen it. I blame myself for that. So - I need to know - how many times has this happened before?"

"They don't like me because I'm different," she softly replied. "They think I'm a loony. They say I don't belong in Ravenclaw."

When she stopped for a few moments, he softly said, "Go on. It helps to get it off your chest. What do they do?"

"Th... they lock me out by confounding the Raven that guards the door, or just sealing the door," she sniffled.

Suddenly, she threw herself at him, where he was crouched. The impact knocked him onto his butt, and his back against the opposite wall of the alcove. And he had a sobbing girl in his arms.

As she sobbed, cried and bawled her eyes out, she told him of some of the things 'they' did to her. They hid her clothes, especially her shoes; when they hadn't hidden her clothes, they put itching powder and similar in them; they'd destroy her homework; they'd call her names; they'd lock her out of either her room, or the entire tower; they'd poured muck all over her bed; and done other horrid things to her.

Harry sat there and listened; he made soft comforting sounds and rubbed her back; and, when he felt her feet were freezing, he cast Warming Charms on them. And, he struggled to maintain his anger - his _rage_. His own _House_ had done this to her. And he hadn't even seen the signs.

As a victim of ongoing abuse he felt he should have recognised the signs when he saw them. He felt, of any of them, he'd know what he'd see when it happened to others. But, he'd missed it. And he felt shame.

He sat there until she drifted off to sleep. Then hit her with a light Sleep Charm with a barely whispered, "_Somnulus_" to keep her that way. And levitated her using a Body Levitation Charm, "_Mobilicorpus_". Making sure she was completely covered with her robes and his cloak, he levitated her out of the alcove.

Last, he was prepared to cover her with his invisibility cloak before hurrying down to the hospital with her, but the corridors and stairs were clear.

There were no students or staff in the corridors or stairs, as almost everyone was already in the Great Hall for breakfast. At least, those who were going to breakfast and weren't sleeping in.

Almost reaching the infirmary, he was met by Daphne's patronus swan. "Where _are_ you? I'm in the Entrance Hall, at the moment."

Harry sent his own patronus back. "I'm fine. However, if Madam Pomfrey is in the Great Hall, can you send her to the infirmary? There's a student in need of her care. And _please_ don't be sitting at the Ravenclaw table. I will be there soon."

Entering the empty infirmary he gently lowered her onto a bed. Next, he pulled a set of screens across to block view of her from the door. Then moved to the centre of the room facing the doors and waited.

A few minutes later, Madam Pomfrey and Daphne hurried in. "Mister Potter? Why did you send for me?"

Harry did not notice that his magic was swirling gently about himself. When he looked at the medi-witch, his eyes were slightly glowing. But it was his face that showed his real inner emotional state. Occlumency, be damned. He was angry and people were going to know it.

Harry, with his fury barely contained, just pointed to the bed with Luna upon it and said in a hoarse voice, "I found her cowering behind a tapestry _like that_, without my cloak, which is currently covering her. She'd been there _all night_. Her own _House mates_ did this to her. _My_ own House mates."

Madam Pomfrey hesitated a moment and stood staring at Harry as he explained. Tearing her eyes away from him she then hurried over to Luna's bed as Daphne hurried forward to be with Harry.

"I cast a mild Sleeping Charm and a couple of Warming Charms upon her," he said to the woman's back. "I then levitated her down here."

Madam Pomfrey used her healer's wand to scan the girl.

"Harry, sweetheart," said Daphne softly moving into his magic, trusting that he would never harm her, and moving to hug him. "Please, calm down. You brought her to medical help."

"It's not enough," snarled Harry. "They _need_ to understand just how _much_ what they did to her was wrong. I _despise_ bullies." His 'S's' in 'despise' were sibilant.

"Harry, please," she said, begging. "You _need_ to let the professors handle it."

"I will. However, if _I_ consider it insufficient punishment, _I will act_." he spat.

Daphne backed out of Harry's arms and moved over to Madam Pomfrey. She softly asked, "How is she?"

"Physically, she's fine," the healer softly replied. And cast an Enervate Charm on the girl.

When Luna woke she immediately started crying again. The deep sobs of someone who's very spirit had been crushed.

Daphne moved closer to Luna and said, "Luna, it's..."

And Luna nearly cried out in fear and pain as she tried to recoil away.

Calling the infirmary house elf, Madam Pomfrey called for a Calming Draught, Draught of Peace and Dreamless Sleep Potion.

She convinced Luna to take the first but held back with the second. When she still wouldn't stop crying she gave her the Draught of Peace.

After she'd taken both potions, Luna calmed down and drifted off to sleep.

Madam Pomfrey turned to Harry and said, "I'll be keeping her here for at least the next twenty-four hours. She'll be safe with me."

Harry just gave a curt sharp nod in response.

As Daphne walked back over he venomously said, "Time, now, to put the fear of _God_ into a whole House. It's time to let Angry Harry come out and play."

Not daring to say a word, Daphne slowly nodded. She, too, was now angry. And she didn't want her anger to feed his. Together, they strode out of the infirmary on the way to the Great Hall.

About a hundred yards down the corridor and around the corner, Harry stopped. Daphne turned to look at him wondering why and saw him thinking furiously.

Suddenly, he snapped out, "Petey."

With a pop of arrival, the Head Elf said, "Yes, Master Harry?"

Looking at the elf, he said, "Petey. I'm about to walk into the Great Hall. When I snap my fingers like this..." and demonstrated "... I want you to put my pensieve on that plinth we used the last time I asked you to bring it to the Great Hall, and have it appear right alongside me. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Master Harry. Petey can do that."

"When I snap my fingers for a second time, I want you to put the pensieve back in Potter manor, alright?"

"Yes, Master Harry."

"Thank you, Petey," he replied, before striding back down the corridor and heading for the Great Hall. The little elf popped away.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As the pair reached the Entrance Hall, still out of sight of those in the Great Hall, Harry brought his whole aura into being. He stood there a moment to centre himself, then turned to Daphne. "Ready?" he asked.

With her own angry mien on her face, she nodded in return.

Harry then stalked forward through the single already open door, and stormed up between the tables, his eyes fixed firmly ahead.

The Hall, as he expected it to, went dead silent. He didn't even know that Daphne had used a Banishing Charm to slam the open door shut behind them.

"Is there a problem, Mister Potter?" asked Dumbledore.

"You're _damned_ right there is, Headmaster," he snarled.

As Harry reached the head end of the House tables he moved across slightly to stand in front of the Ravenclaw table. He held up his left hand, snapped his fingers and, as organised, his pensieve on its plinth stood alongside him.

"And what _is_ the problem, Mister Potter?" asked the old man in that annoying super-calm voice he used as if speaking to a misbehaving child.

Harry ignored him. Instead, he looked to Professor Flitwick and said, "Professor Flitwick; as this applies to _your_ House, please come here." Then turned to Professor McGonagall and said, "Professor McGonagall; as _you_ - and _not_ the Headmaster - are in overall responsibility of student discipline, please come here."

Without even bothering to wait for a reply he raised his wand tip to his temple, concentrated on the memory of his time from just before he found Luna behind the tapestry, until he'd levitated her out of there, and pulled the memory forth before dropping it in the pensieve.

By the time he'd finished, both professors and Dumbledore had come down to the pensieve.

Professors Flitwick and McGonagall looked at him in confusion before he said, "Professor Flitwick, Professor McGonagall; you need to see this. I _doubt_ I'll be able to speak of it without utterly losing my temper and going on a most _unholy_ rampage."

Both professors and the old man stepped forward to enter the pensieve. Harry's hand shot out and firmly pressed back against the Headmaster's chest. "This is _my_ memory, Headmaster. And you, Sir, were _not_ invited."

Dumbledore glared back in anger for a few moments before he gave a short nod and backed away. In a clear voice, he said, "My apologies, Mister Potter, You are, of course, correct. However, as Headmaster, if this pertains to the safety of the students, it is my purview to be involved."

"I'm sure Professors Flitwick and McGonagall will inform you if it is. At that time, I shall be _happy_ to allow you to view the memory. Until that time, I will not give carte blanche for someone to invade another's privacy," said Harry firmly in reply and just as clearly. "Then turning to the two professors who were waiting he gestured to the pensieve and said, "Professors."

With a quick glance at the Headmaster, both Professors dropped into the memory. A few minutes later, they were out. And both were furious. It was the angriest Harry had ever seen either of them.

Professor Flitwick rounded on the Ravenclaw table and leapt up to stand on the end of it. His magic crackled around him, making his head seem to float with static electricity. "Head Girl Miss Clearwater and all prefects!" he barked. "You have two minutes to get yourselves to my office."

When no one seemed to move, he roared, "_NOW!_" And his magic thrummed.

They quickly clambered to their feet, practically tripping over themselves, and bolted out the doors.

He watched them go before turning back to the rest of table, "All those who are responsible for even a _single_ incident of bullying against Miss Lovegood, you have the same two minutes to get yourselves to my _classroom_. _Go!_"

Not that many hurried after the first group. Professor McGonagall stepped forward as Professor Flitwick jumped backwards off the table, and said, "I will be speaking with Miss Lovegood, momentarily. If she mentions even _one_ name of someone who has bullied her, and you are _still_ sitting at this table when I walk out, you will find yourselves _suspended_!"

Another dozen rose and started to walk quickly out.

"_RUN!_" roared the little Charms Master. They ran.

Harry then turned to Professor McGonagall and firmly asked, "Do you believe the safety of the students are at risk? Or, is this a matter of discipline, alone, _Deputy Headmistress_ McGonagall?"

"Discipline only, Mister Potter," she firmly replied.

"Thank you, Professor," he said, dipping his wand back into the pensieve and removing the memory. That went into another phial. "I shall be sending this memory strand to Mister Xenophilius Lovegood. He deserves to know what _horrors_ have been visited upon his only daughter while she has been a student at this school."

"_That_ will not be necessary, Mister Potter," said the Headmaster curtly.

"No, Headmaster; it is not necessary. However, it is the _right_ thing to do," said Harry, firmly and clearly. "Parents have the right to know how their children are faring at school. And, when their children are being _maliciously_ and _repeatedly_ bullied, they have the right to come and speak to the senior staff, to find out how the situation is being rectified. Do you _not agree_ - Headmaster?"

Dumbledore stood furious, for a few moments, before he spun about and stormed off without answering. He immediately left through the staff entrance as Professors Flitwick and McGonagall left through the main doors.

Harry snapped his fingers a second time and the pensieve and it's plinth disappeared.

With his magic back up and swirling he stood before the table himself, placed his fists on the leading edge, leaned forward and snarled, "Right! Listen up, because I'm only going to say this once! Those of you who did not bully - but knew it was happening and did nothing about it - I hold you in _utter_ contempt! You _disgust_ me! I hold you in the same contempt as those who actually did the bullying.

"An eighteenth century Irish statesman, Edmund Burke, said 'All tyranny needs to gain a foothold is for people of good conscience to remain silent'. And, twentieth century American leader, Martin Luther King Junior, said, 'He who accepts evil without protesting against it is really cooperating with it'. And, the nineteenth century Swiss philosopher, Henri Frederic Amiel, said, 'Truth is not only violated by falsehood; it may be equally outraged by silence'.

"All three of those great men were talking about some - if not many - of you still sitting here before me. So, if you're aware of bullying incidents of _anyone_ in this school, not just dear Luna, get up off your _arses_ and go tell the Professors _now_!

"Until this House learns and understands that Ravenclaw prided intelligence and wit for her House - both of which dear Luna has in _full_ measure - I want _no part of you_. As of now - and until _I_ am satisfied this House has learned it's lesson - I will _not_ be a member of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team, I will refuse _all_ points accorded me, and I will treat all of you as if you do not even exist. If I could remove these colours from my robes, I would do it in heartbeat. For now, I will wear them as a mark of my _shame_ in not learning of Luna's victimisation earlier."

Harry then stepped back from the table, sneering down it's length as he allowed his magic to calm down, and walked over to where his friends sat at the Slytherin table. He sat with his back to the other tables.

Daphne sat with him, then leaned over and said with a clear voice, "_Very_ well said," before she kissed him on the cheek and gave him a hug.

He didn't know who started it - but, it did start with one person - the Hall slowly broke into standing applause from both Hufflepuff and Gryffindor tables. Soon, some of the Slytherins even joined in before only a few Ravenclaws did. Most of the Ravenclaw table left.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After breakfast, Harry excused himself from the others to head directly back to the infirmary. Daphne called after him and said, "Oh, no you don't; my betrothed. I'm coming with!" Then linked her arm through his.

Walking up the stairs to the second floor they were about to pass Professor McGonagall as she was walking away from the infirmary, but stopped her instead.

"How is she, Professor?" he asked.

"Very unhappy," she sighed. "And she's embarrassed she cried all over you. She's also embarrassed this happened to her, and thinks it's her fault."

"That is the normal reaction of someone who's been abused, Professor," he said. "As a victim myself, I empathise. And, as I can empathise, I believe I may be able to help her through this."

Professor McGonagall sighed. "I want names, Mister Potter," she said firmly. "I can't very well punish the - culprits if she won't tell me who they are. Unless Fil... Professor Flitwick can convince his miscreants to confess."

"I'll get them, Professor, he promised. "I shall use against Miss Lovegood the most powerful weapon in my arsenal - logic. She's a true Ravenclaw; so she'll have no defence against that."

She tried hard not to smile, she really did. "Very well, Mister Potter," she said. "Do your best. I look forward to seeing those names." A nod to Daphne and she said, "Miss Greengrass."

"Professor," said Daphne.

Before he walked into the infirmary, Harry paused them both for a few moments and centred himself. He adopted a happy-go-lucky persona and strolled in. He saw Madam Pomfrey over near Luna's bed and called out to her. "Good morning, again, Poppy! My, you look _ravishing_ in this light!"

"_Mister_ Potter!" she exclaimed, while Daphne snorted. "I'm almost old enough to be your gran - your mother's older sister! And that's _Madam Pomfrey_ to you, you scamp!"

Harry grinned impudently back as he noticed the small smile play across Luna's lips. Which, of course, was the whole reason he said it. He also saw the medi-witch knew exactly why he said it, too. _Nothing_ slipped past that woman.

Harry and Daphne walked up to the side of Luna's bed and used a Copy Charm to conjure up another stool for Daphne, to go with the one already there.

After hamming up helping Daphne onto her stool, he plonked himself down on the other. "Hiya, gorgeous!" he said, grinning from ear to ear. "Miss me?"

"Hi Harry," she said, before dropping her eyes. "Thank you for - helping me, this morning."

"Ah-ah!" he said, gently reaching out with a finger and pushing her chin back up. "You should be looking into my eyes. I'm told I have the most _gorgeous_ green eyes. They're supposed to make _all_ the witches swoon." And gave a big, _overly_-dramatic feminine sigh.

Daphne snorted again before she giggled and said, "Prat."

At least it also got Luna smiling, again. _And_ looking at him.

"What?" he asked, feigning ignorance. "I _don't_ have the most gorgeous green eyes?"

"No, Harry," said Luna. "You do have gorgeous green eyes. But it's _not_ something we're supposed to tell you. That's something for us girls; and, I suppose, the readers of Teen Witch Weekly."

"Gahh!" said Harry with mock horror. "You said the three dreaded words!" he loudly whispered.

"I did?" asked Luna, quite puzzled.

Daphne answered, "Yes, Luna. Teen - Witch - Weekly."

"Gahh!" said Harry again. "Evil! _Eeevvviiiiilll_!"

"You don't like Tee..." began Luna.

"Ah!" said Harry, holding up a hand and waggling a finger.

"You don't like - that particular publication?" she asked, instead.

He vehemently shook his head.

Daphne laughed and said, "He saw an article in one once he really didn't like. It was about..."

"Gahhhhhhh!" he squealed as he put his fingers in his ears.

"It was about which famous heart throb wizards had the cutest bums," finished Daphne with an evil grin.

Luna laughed. It had a lovely musical quality to it.

Harry pulled one finger out and winced, before he looked around. Not hearing about _that_ publication he sighed in relief.

"Was Harry upset he was in it? Or _wasn't_ in it?" asked Luna with a smile.

"He wasn't in it, but it was all adults, anyway," replied Daphne.

"Well, I wouldn't know, anyway, would I?" he huffed. Then asked, "Do _you_ think I've got a cute bum?"

"_Harrryyy!_" squealed Daphne.

He hopped off his stool and tried to turn himself around at the waist to look. Not seeing anything he pulled his outer robe off over his head and tried again.

"What are you doing?" asked Luna, curious as he seemed to just about turn himself inside out.

"I'm trying to see if I've got a cute bum or not," said Harry.

"_Harrryyy!_" squealed both this time.

"Hang on a sec," he said, before ducking out from behind the screen. "Madam Pomfrey, do you have one of those tall, floor standing mirrors handy? - I'm trying to see if I've got a cute bum!"

"_Mister Potter!_" the matron exclaimed.

Both girls burst into full squealing laughter.

"Wha-at?" he innocently asked, before heading back to his stool.

From where she sat, Madam Pomfrey smiled. It was good to hear the lass laugh. Young Harry was clearly doing wonders for her.

After sitting down and sighing in mock disappointment, Harry straightened himself up and said, "Now, Luna."

"Yes, Harry?" she asked, a little warily.

"I want to make sure that you're protected, here at school," he said. "After all, I haven't rescued a fair maiden in months now. And, it's high time I did it again. I have a certain image to maintain, you know." He said conspiratorially.

"Mmm?" she asked.

"So, I'm asking Miss Luna Lovegood - that's you, beautiful - if she would do me the great honour of accepting the protection of House Potter."

Luna looked up at him in surprise. "Harry, that's a big thing! It's not to be offered lightly."

"You know Hermione's a Protectee of House Potter, right?" he asked.

She nodded.

"I protect my friends, Luna," he said. "I count you as one of them. Placing you under my protection says that to everyone."

She looked back with tears about to well in her eyes.

"So, please, dear Luna," he pleaded. "Let me do this for you."

As one single fat tear slid down her cheek, she nodded.

He rose off his chair and bent forward over her, placing a kiss on her forehead. "Thank you," he whispered. "Now, what's your full name?"

"Luna Selene Lovegood," she replied.

Popping his wand into his hand, Harry intoned, "Miss Luna Selene Lovegood, I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, offer you the protection of my House. Do you accept?"

She softly replied, "I, Luna Selene Lovegood, accept the protection of House Potter, my Lord."

Harry carefully held out the tip of his wand so it was next to Luna's left shoulder, and said, "Then, so mote it be!" And tapped her high on her upper arm as he did so.

There was sudden but muted flash at Luna's shoulder. However, there was no small House Potter Crest outlined in white because she was wearing pyjamas. Daphne found Luna's robe and, grinning, showed them the crest affixed there.

Harry resheathed his wand and said with a smile, "Welcome to the protection of House Potter, Miss Lovegood."

Then he bent over and kissed her on the forehead again. Luna raised her arms and grabbed him in a hug. She whispered, "Thank you, Harry."

Pulling back and sitting down again, he said, "You are most welcome. Now, as your Protector, I'm going to need an idea of who it is who is likely to be a threat to you..."

Luna looked ready to object before he held up a hand to forestall her, and said, "Now, Luna; I take my role as Protector most seriously - ask Hermione - and it is your responsibility as Protectee to tell me of such threats. I do not care if they are just pranks that have gotten out of hand; I need to know.

"And you need to trust that I will do the right thing on your behalf. So, tell me the names and what they did, and I will handle everything from there _as is my duty to you_. This, I swear."

Hesitatingly, at first, Luna soon opened up and told Harry everything he needed to know that she knew. Then he had her tell him other things that had happened and who she suspected was behind it, and _why_ she suspected them.

And, finally, while he had her talking, he had her tell him about the little accidents that had occurred and who else was involved, such as the time one of the older girls 'accidentally' knocked her ink pot right across her freshly completed transfiguration essay, and another used her just finished potions essay to mop up spilled water the other girl had 'accidentally' spilled right next to Luna.

She cried during the telling of it. And Daphne held her in her arms for the entirety of it. But the information poured out of her. But, once done, it was clear Luna felt as if a great weight had been removed from her psyche.

Harry and Daphne stayed for a little while, and had Luna tell them about what it was like to help her Daddy prepare and print The Quibbler when she was home. And they asked her how she kept herself busy - she loved to paint and cook. And asked her about the various magical animals she knew so much about, and her and her father's search for proof of them.

In return, Harry and Daphne told her about living at Greengrass Estate, and Harry told her about being muggle-raised. He also promised to tell her all about televisions, telephones, microwaves, dishwashers, washing machines and all manner of other muggle household appliances. And that, if she decided she wanted to become part of their group of friends, she would be allowed to visit Hermione's muggle home and see what they were all like for herself. That last bit really cheered her up.

Madam Pomfrey - bless her - must have been listening. Because she came and sent the two of them away almost immediately afterwards explaining 'the girl needs a rest from you two' once they wound down.

"A rest from _me_?" he exclaimed. "But, _I'm_ Harry Potter! He of the gorgeous green eyes and cute bum!"

"_Harrryyy!_" squealed both girls, while Madam Pomfrey exclaimed "_Mister_ Potter!"

"Out!" exclaimed the medi-healer while pointing her finger at the door.

Out the door and around the corner, Harry's expression changed to anger. He removed yet another clear phial, concentrated on the memory of their conversation concerning the bullying, and dropped it into the container.

"Come on," he said, taking Daphne's hand. "I promised Professor McGonagall I'd get this to her as soon as I could."

A quick Tempus Charm and both young teens were heading for the Transfiguration classroom.

Harry smartly rapped on the door and ducked his head inside. The Professor had an older year class in progress but she waved him in. He strode straight up to her with a grim expression on his face and handed her the phial. "As promised, Professor," he said.

She glanced at the phial in her hand before looking back at him and giving him a curt nod. "Thank you, Mister Potter."

He gave her a nod back and quickly left the class room.

Outside they walked a few paces away before Harry sighed and leaned back against the wall with his head rested back.

"I don't believe I missed all that happening, Daph," he quietly said.

"We've been busy with our own things, Harry," she soothed him. Hugging him. "You spend little time in the Ravenclaw common room because you think of them all - as you put it - too book-centric. They are like Hermione _was_. If it's _not_ written down somewhere it cannot be true; and if it _is_ written down it must be true.

"Professors McGonagall and Flitwick will deal with them. You have to trust them to do so."

"If they don't, my love," he firmly said. "Then, I will."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At Lunch, that afternoon, the Seven took seat at the Hufflepuff table. Again, Harry deliberately sat with his back to the Ravenclaw table. The others offered to provide them both with their notes on the morning classes and homework assignments.

He and Daphne returned to classes for the afternoon session, though. As, while none of the staff docked them points for missing the morning sessions, they were there to attend classes and learn.

At dinner, while the Seven sat at the Gryffindor table, it was Professor Flitwick who stood to address the student body.

"After interviews and investigations regarding Ravenclaw House and the ongoing bullying of a student within, I, as Head of House, and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall, responsible for overall discipline within the school, have acted.

"One - _all_ Ravenclaw prefects have been stripped of their positions as prefects. The primary role of a prefect is the safety and care of all students - _all_ students. That a student within the House has been subjected to ongoing and repetitive bullying for her entire time within this school is completely unacceptable. That the prefects did not stop it, and in some cases either participated in or encouraged it, is even _more_ unacceptable. As such, Ravenclaw will have _no_ prefects until such time as I can find older students who are capable and willing to carry out the role as it _should_ be carried out.

"Two - over thirty percent of the House was responsible for directly bullying their fellow student. And, a further sixty percent of the House knew it has happening, and did nothing about it. That makes you complicit. For each incident of a student bullying another, that is a loss of twenty points. For each incident of a student watching the bullying of another, and not doing something about it, that is a loss of ten points. As such, by my count, that's a combined loss of _one thousand six hundred and thirty points_."

The Professor drew his wand, and waved it at the points board. The numbers for Ravenclaw changed to -1556. Harry didn't even know the numbers could go into negatives. The board had to be magically altered to allow that many digits.

"Three - there are now seven students who have been suspended and sent home. A further fifteen students have, as a minimum, two full weeks of detentions. All twenty-two are each also required to submit a four foot essay on the evil of both passive and active bullying.

"Four - the Ravenclaw common room library is now off limits. I have instructed the elves to box it up and place it in storage. And it is not to be brought back out of storage until such time as I am satisfied. If you need reference materials, use the _school_ library and your own texts. You do not deserve the privilege of having it.

"And, five - I have never, in all my years of teaching _and_ as a student here myself, been so utterly disgusted to be considered a Ravenclaw. As I know Deputy Headmistress McGonagall told you all on the day you first arrived here for Sorting, your House is your family. For Ravenclaw students to have treated one of their own so abysmally is appalling.

"That is all." He took his seat again as Professor McGonagall gave him a slow nod. It took a little while for the hubbub from the student body to rise again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	51. A New Spy

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty One – A New Spy**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Luna was released from the infirmary that evening to find all her things that had been stolen from her and hidden, had been returned and were neatly stacked on her bed. The elves had been called by Professor Flitwick, and everything that was tainted had been cleaned and, where necessary, repaired.

When she was released, Harry escorted her to the Ravenclaw common room and pointed out to everyone she now wore on her upper left sleeve the Potter Crest showing she was now a Protectee of House Potter.

No one missed the implied threat.

After she had happily put away all her returned things and changed into fresh clothing while Harry waited in the common room - and glared at anyone who even _thought_ about saying anything - Harry took her across to the Come and Go Room where the others were all waiting doing either homework or just chatting.

Daphne had already convinced the others to allow Luna to be a part of their group. Though, it took little effort. Which also meant she was shown how the Room worked.

Because she was behind on her assignments, due to the number of times her homework had either been damaged or stolen, the group helped her set up a schedule to get back up to speed. And provided her reference materials and advice to speed the process along.

One time, she burst into tears and it took a while for the girls to calm her down. She explained the reason for her tears was that, other than the time the group had allowed her to ride in their carriage on the Express with them, no one had shown her a kindness during her time at Hogwarts until Harry, that morning.

"Well, that part of your Hogwarts experience has ended," said Susan firmly. "We'll be here for you, and you don't need to worry about any more bullying. That's now been taken care of."

"And, you know you just need to talk to Harry or the rest of us, if it starts up again," said Neville. "Harry doesn't take his role as Protectee any less than completely serious. You'll see."

"Thank you," she sniffled. "I haven't had a friend in what feels like forever."

Harry frowned and said, "I thought Ginny Weasley was your friend."

"She's - more of an acquaintance now, really," she replied sadly. "She's been nice for the past few weeks. I didn't tell her what's been happening as I think she's still traumatised about Tom. And I think she thinks I don't want to be her friend, anymore."

"Well, that's up to you, what you want to do about it," said Daphne. "But this Room and what it can do, is our secret. So, we don't want you telling anyone about it, alright?"

"Alright," she said. "It _is_ a marvellous room and I can understand why you feel the need to protect it. You make very good use of it."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning the Seven plus one took seat at the Gryffindor table. Again, Harry sat with his back to his own.

He was sitting with Daphne on one side and Luna on the other when Ron Weasley walked in and saw Luna sitting with the Seven. He got angry.

"What's Loony doing..." was as far as he got, calling out loudly enough for many others to hear before Harry was up and out of his seat and had the other boy by the throat, squeezing. His magic was roiling around him in waves.

Professor McGonagall was up and moving as soon as she heard the invective, 'Loony'.

The twins were up as soon as Harry moved. However, they were sitting on the other side of the table and it took them a while to circle around it and come up from the other side.

"_Mister_ Weasley," growled Harry, squeezing enough to completely cut off the other boy's air supply. "Either you are mentally defective or you have a death wish. I care not which."

"Mister Potter!" called Professor McGonagall, hurrying up.

Harry hesitated a moment before calling back, "This - student - seems to either believe he is exempt from retribution I mete out to those who attack either of my Protectees; that what Professor Flitwick made clear to the entire student body, last night, means nothing to him; or he truly _is_ mentally deficient.

"I am trying to determine which is the case."

"Harrikins, please," said one of the twins as they arrived from behind their brother.

"Let us deal with him," said the other.

"Mister Potter, it was _you_ who pointed out I'm responsible for discipline in this school," pleaded Professor McGonagall. "He _will_ be punished, I _assure_ you!"

Harry released Weasley and stepped back. "Fine," he growled as the twins stepped forward to catch their brother from falling. "I will _not_ act in my role as Protector of Miss Lovegood out of respect for you, the twins and Miss Ginny Weasley. However, this is a one-time free pass."

"Thank you, Mister Potter," said McGonagall with a sigh of relief.

She turned to the twins and simply instructed, "Bring him." And marched out the double doors.

The twins frog-marched their brother out right behind her.

"He was going to kill me!" the boy croaked as he was marched out.

As he watched them leave, from behind, Harry heard the voice of the Headmaster. "Was that _really_ necessary, Mister Potter?" asked the old man with his 'I'm so disappointed in you' voice.

Slowly turning around, Harry glared at the Headmaster and said, "No, Headmaster, it was not. You simply enforcing the school charter, specifically where it states 'No student shall be permitted to bully another', would not have seen Miss Lovegood bullied for a year, would not have seen Ravenclaw House near-decimated of students _and_ with what will be the lowest number of points in it's _history_ since the point system was established, and would not have seen that idiot boy walk in here and put himself in a position where it would have been lawful for me to _kill him_."

"Harry, you need to learn to forgive," said Dumbledore.

"Are you a Headmaster or a priest?" asked Harry with a growl.

"I'm Headmaster, of course," replied the old man, becoming flustered.

"Then, _please_, stop trying to do a priest's job for them," said Harry. "You're the Headmaster; please, do _that_ job. Telling your students they have to forgive those that trespass against them _isn't_ in the job description."

"I'm _still_ the Headmaster of this school, Mister Potter," the old man getting angry. "And you _will_ treat me with respect."

"And when have I not, Headmaster, while we've been having this little tête-à-tête?" he asked right back. "I have addressed you by your title and I have used courteous language. There is nothing in the law, or rules of this school, that forbid me from arguing with you, so long as I maintain those marks of respect. That you do not like what you hear is not a sufficient reason to take offence. I also remind you, it is _you_ who sought this exchange by coming down here and initiating this conversation."

"My office, _now_, Mister Potter!" the Headmaster barked, turning around and storming away.

"As has been made clear to you, Headmaster - both verbally and in writing by my magical guardians - you are required to provide me seventy-two hours advance warning of a request to meet with you," called Harry. "You are also required to submit that request to me in writing. Therefore, Headmaster, I _must_ decline and shall await your written request."

Dumbledore spun on the spot, glared at him again, and stormed off. No request was later sent.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"Impertinent, _impudent_ child!" ranted the old man, as he stormed into his office.

"I take it you're again referring to young Mister Potter, Albus?" asked the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

Dumbledore sighed and looked at the portrait. "Yes, Phineas; I was. You seem to know me well."

"Well, I _was_ your Potions Master when you were a student here, Albus," replied the portrait.

"And _I_ was your Headmaster," said the portrait of Dexter Fortescue. "You've also been Headmaster for almost forty years, Albus. Don't you feel it's time to allow another to step in?"

Dumbledore scowled and said, "I still have too much to do to step down."

"And little of it is the work of a Headmaster," said Phineas. "You're _far_ too focussed on that thrice-bedamned prophecy to give the role of Headmaster the attention it deserves."

"You need to determine where your priorities lie, Albus," said Dexter a touch angrily. "Is it this school or the prophecy?"

"It has _always_ been the Greater Good of the wizarding world," growled Dumbledore. "The position of Headmaster - as were the positions of Supreme Mugwump and Chief Warlock - has been in support of that purpose since the prophecy was made."

"And what makes you think you're even on the right track?" asked the portrait of Everard Twycross. "You always _were_ pants at Divination. Or, have you forgotten?"

Dumbledore just grumbled and glared at the portrait.

"Ah, yes," said the portrait of Armando Dippet. "And, is it truly the Greater Good; or the same Greater Good your friend, Grindelwald, espoused?"

"Enough!" snarled Dumbledore, waving his wand without looking, to temporarily lock the portraits down. His problem was, as he wasn't paying attention to what he was doing, he missed the portrait of Phineas Nigellus Black.

Making a decision, Phineas drifted out the side of the frame.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

In Grimmauld Place, Sirius was carefully going through the books within the house library to place under protections those he considered far too dangerous to leave out in the open on a simple shelf.

"Sirius Black!" he heard a voice call down from up the stairs. "Where are you, you bloody disappointment?"

Frowning, Sirius rose from where he was sitting and listened. He checked the wards and knew no one had come through them other than him and Remus. So, it had to be something else.

"_Sirius!_" the same voice bellowed.

Popping his wand out, Sirius crept up the stairs, careful not to step on the creaky ones, and made his way to the Tapestry Room.

"_Sirius!_" the same voice bellowed yet again.

The bellow almost made Sirius jump in fright. With his heart beating firmly in his chest, Sirius carefully made his way into the room, scanning everything.

"There you are, Disappointment," he heard turning to the sound with a curse on his lips. Something was - different.

"Oh, put that away!" He saw the portrait of his great great grandfather, Phineas Nigellus, moving within the portrait frame that had been empty since he'd returned to the family home after his release.

"Phineas," said Sirius, reholstering his wand. "I'd call this a pleasant surprise, but I'd be lying,"

"And I'd know you would be," snarked the portrait.

"What do you want, Phineas?" asked Sirius, a little annoyed.

"I want to talk to you about my great great great grandson, Harry James," replied the portrait, becoming all business-like, "The Potter boy."

"I know who Harry is, Phineas," snarked Sirius right back. "He's my godson."

"Sworn?" asked the portrait, looking back with an intensity Sirius had only ever seen on his grandfather, Arcturus's, face; and when he looked in the mirror. It meant what he replied was very important to the man.

Sirius hesitated for a moment and, believing an honest answer wouldn't hurt, replied, "Yes."

"Good," said the portrait, relaxing a little again. "It appears you _aren't_ as big a disappointment as you were in your youth. It makes what I need to tell you easier."

"And what would that be?" asked Sirius. He'd tolerate his ancestor's back-handed compliments if it meant even a small bit of aid in Harry's safety.

"Dumbledore," snarled the portrait. "The man's gone too far."

Now showing his own expression of intensity, Sirius asked, "What has the old fool done?"

"There's a prophecy about the boy," replied the portrait.

Warily, Sirius asked, "Will you report what we discuss with Dumbledore?"

"No," the portrait frowned back. "I take it, from your expression, you're aware of it?"

"I am," nodded Sirius.

"Good," said the portrait. "It saves me having to find a way around my oath to tell you, then."

Sirius waited.

"Dumbledore is bent on seeing the prophecy come to fruition under _his_ terms," said the portrait, frowning. "He's attempting to engineer situations that will bring the prophecy to pass in the way he wants, possibly far sooner than intended."

"Idiot!" snarled Sirius. "What can you tell me about these plans?"

"He's focussed on controlling young Harry James. He calls him 'the primary'," said the portrait. "There's another boy he calls 'the secondary'."

"That would be young Neville; Neville Longbottom," said Sirius.

"Correct," said the portrait. "Dumbledore's original plan was for Harry James to be cared for by his maternal aunt and uncle, the muggles named Dursley. He made sure all communication from the wizarding world sent his way was blocked, claiming it was for the best if the boy not receive any. He believed young Harry James would constantly receive fan mail, that his enemies would try to use owl mail as a way to find him, or even portkey him away from there. He wanted the boy to have a normal, happy childhood. However, it was also about controlling what information the boy received.

"Then there's the blood wards. Are you aware of them?"

"Yes, replied Sirius. "However, they'd be gone by now. Harry needed to be at the house for at least a month or more each year to restrengthen them. That's well and truly past."

Nodding, Phineas said, "Harry James was _already_ protected from Voldemort and his followers by the blood magic his mother employed to save him in the first place. Otherwise, how could he have survived the Killing Curse? Therefore, he could have been placed anywhere and still been afforded those protections. As long as someone loved and cared for him, the protections would remain in place.

"Without checking first if it was the right thing to do, Dumbledore disconnected the anchor from Harry James, himself, and anchored those protections to his muggle aunt's home. Once Dumbledore realised that was a mistake, it was too late. He couldn't move the protections back. His mother designed the runes and spell to only protect a single person; _never_ an entire house. If Dumbledore had left well enough alone, those protections would _still_ be afforded the boy. It was a mistake that may well yet cost Harry James his life.

"Dumbledore was aware the Dursleys and magic did not mix. However, he believed, since the aunt had sent a letter asking she be allowed to attend Hogwarts, she would not be adverse to having a magical child in her household. He expected Harry James to be well cared for, if not loved.

"He then expected Harry James to be a happy, well adjusted boy; but, completely clueless of the magical world. Because knowledge is power, he hoped to control Harry James through controlling the information the boy received. In that way, Harry James could _not_ act until he, Dumbledore, provided him the information Harry James _needed_ to act. Dumbledore would be the guiding hand that would point Harry James in the direction he wanted him to go.

"However, Harry James arrived at Hogwarts having _far_ more information concerning the wizarding world and his heritage than Dumbledore expected. He did not expect Harry James to be so - proactive - in gathering information; to absorb such information at such a prodigious rate; to have already claimed his Headship; or discover he was contractually betrothed to the daughter of one of the Lords on the Wizengamot he is unable to control. And Harry James accomplished all this in only six weeks!

"Without being able to control the information Harry James receives, Dumbledore now cannot control him through that method. He has tried to use his charm and grandfatherly persona to gain Harry James's trust; but it, too, has failed. Harry James sees right through it.

"So, I worry the fool will now try to use other, shall we say, less legal forms of control. You and I both know there are Charms and Potions he could use that will not show any outward effect. And, while Dumbledore received an Outstanding in Potions, and went on to work with Flamel in Alchemy, it's his loyal Potions Master, Severus Snape, who will brew the Potions he needs.

"But, Harry James wears the Head of House ring for House Potter, and Dumbledore believes he may have other methods to detect such Charms or Potions of which he, Dumbledore, is unaware. However, Neville Francis and his other friends do not. They represent a weakness in Harry James's psyche. And Mister Longbottom is the secondary.

"You care for him - Neville," said Sirius.

Phineas nodded and said, "He's another descendant. He's my great great great grand nephew through granddaughter Callidora. She married the Longbottom. Its over there, on the tapestry. Dumbledore's determined to have Harry James under his control so he can guide the boy towards his destiny; the way _he_ sees the boy's destiny. If Harry James fails, then he will have young Neville Francis in place to step up and complete the prophecy. In other words, that bastard is attempting to mould two of my descendants into weapons which he controls."

"But, Voldemort didn't mark Neville," said Sirius. "How does he see him as being the possible one written in prophecy?"

Phineas shook his head, "You aren't seeing it. Try to at least _think_ like a Slytherin, Sirius Orion; before I put you back on my Disappointment list. Just because Neville Francis hasn't been marked by Voldemort _yet_, it does not mean he won't be in future."

Sirius looked back in shock. They hadn't thought of that. And the truth of it was obvious.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Cygnus, Isabel and Augusta pulled out of the Greengrass pensieve. And none of them looked happy. Sirius, from where he leaned on the back of one of the chairs in the office said, "Well?"

Cygnus replied, "It doesn't surprise me Dumbledore seems to have completely forgotten Phineas Nigellus's oath to House Black takes precedence over his oath of confidentiality to the Headmaster. As long as Phineas sticks to talking about threats to Harry and Neville he's in the clear.

"Otherwise, I dare say he would have locked the portrait down or moved it to another part of the headmaster's quarters where it wouldn't be able to hear plans."

Turning to Gran, Sirius asked, "And how are you, Augusta? After seeing that."

"If that whiskered old wanker comes anywhere near Neville - or Harry, for that matter - with a potion or charm..." she fumed.

"We don't know he's actually going to do it," said Sirius. "That could just be Phineas imprinting his own Slytherin tactics on Dumbledore. At least, Dumbledore hasn't mentioned anything like that in his office while Phineas has been able to hear. Nor has he said anything within Remus's excellent hearing range."

"I'll tell Harry, Daphne and Hermione to use their rings to check for either Potion or Charm for Neville and the others, anyway," said Cygnus. "It's already good that they constantly shift tables and even _they_ don't know at which table they'll sup until one of them walks into the Great Hall and chooses.

"Ah! I forgot. All tables except one. Ravenclaw is now on their personal ban list. Harry discovered one of the female Second Years has been systematically and maliciously bullied since just after she started at Hogwarts. He only found out when he discovered the girl huddling and crying behind a tapestry on the seventh floor early one morning a few days ago.

"He got her to tell him a lot of what had been happening to her. After she sobbed her little heart out on his lap, she fell asleep. He then cast warming and sleep charms on her and levitated her down to the infirmary and called for Madam Pomfrey to come to see her."

"He got angry, didn't he," said Sirius.

"Yes, but he didn't lose his temper, this time. This time he called for his pensieve and had Professors Flitwick and McGonagall view it. It was both professors who went nuts at the students after they came out."

"Professor Flitwick?" asked Isabel. "_Kindly_ little Professor Flitwick?"

"Yep," grinned Cygnus. "He immediately jumped up onto the end of the table and started yelling. His magic, when it flares, crackles with small bolts of lightning."

"By evening, seven students were suspended, a further fifteen were placed in detention, all Ravenclaw, all Ravenclaw prefects were stripped of their positions, including the Head Girl, the _entire_ House lost access to the House library, and they lost over _sixteen hundred_ house points. Ravenclaw is about to have the year when the House will have recorded it's lowest ever number of points."

"This, we've got to see," said Sirius.

Cygnus smirked and held up a phial containing a memory strand. "I come prepared. I received this, this morning." Then he switched the two memories out with Sirius returning his to his mind before they all, including Sirius, dived in."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After classes, Harry and the others had gathered in their room in the Come and Go Room and were working on assignments. The weekend was approaching and they wanted it as clear as possible so they could work on their spell casting. Harry also wanted to teach Luna the trick with flaring magic.

Harry felt his mirror warm up and buzz in his pocket. Taking it out he whispered, "Padfoot," onto the surface. It cleared and he could see his godfather smiling back.

"Hiya, kiddo!" said Sirius.

"Hiya Sirius!" he said back. "How's tricks?"

"Pretty good, pup," replied Sirius.

"Good, let's test, then, shall we?" smirked Harry. "Sit - _staaaay_ - roll over! _Good dog!_"

Sirius barked with laughter and said, "That's almost _exactly_ what your mother said to me, once!"

Harry chuckled back. "So, to what do I owe this most pleasant conversation?"

"Actually, it's a most unpleasant matter," said Sirius turning, well, serious.

"Oh?" asked Harry, warily.

"Who is currently with you in hearing range, pup?" asked Sirius.

"Just us eight," replied Harry. "I've placed Luna Lovegood under House Potter protection and she's here with us in the Come and Go Room."

"That's a good idea," said Sirius. "Anyway! We, your lovable guardians, now have a spy within Dumbledore's - service. They've passed onto us some worrying thoughts."

"Alright," said Harry. "What troubles them?"

"Well, Dumbledore had this whole plan where you would arrive at Hogwarts nice and pliable. He'd then play the role as the kindly grandfather and you would come to adore him in that role. That way he would be able to control you," explained Sirius.

"When you arrived at Hogwarts with a great deal more information that he expected you to have, had already taken up your Head of House ring, were betrothed, and seemed to dislike him; he then tried to get you to start liking him again, and again come to see him as the kindly grandfather type. That's what a lot of those early meetings you had with him in first two years were supposed to accomplish.

"He's now realised none of that is going to work. So our spy is worried he's going to try and slip you Potions or Charms that will strip your will to resist and, once again, be the pliable little puppet he really wants you to be."

"My ring should stop that," said Harry with a growl.

"Yes," said Sirius. "And this is all conjecture at the moment. We may be completely wrong. However, he may try to get to you through your friends, by getting to them first and using them to get to you. We also believe it's why he offered the DADA position to Remus. To have yet another avenue to get through to you."

"_Damn_ it!" snarled Harry.

"What we want you to start doing, Prongslet, is for you, Daphne and Hermione to start using your rings to check the food for your entire group of friends."

"Yeah, we can do that," sighed Harry. "But it's going to be obvious we're doing it."

Sirius shook his head and said, "No. We've figured out how to get past that. If you all start passing messages to each other across and down the table, and use your ring hand to do it, you'll be able to use that gesture to scan the food if you pass the notes slowly enough."

"That'll work," said Hermione. "You can also reach across the table to pick up a condiment, or place something on someone's plate and suggest they try a bit. I'm sure I can come up with more ideas."

Surprised, Sirius said, "Yeah, they'll work, too. You should use a combination of different methods. But scan the entire area of food before you start eating or drinking. We're also working on getting your friends rings that will be charmed invisible but have the same potion and charm detection features as the Head of House and betrothal rings have. So, we're needing five now?"

"Yeah," replied Harry. "Five would be nice."

Nodding Sirius said, "You leave that to us. I'll see that jeweller you introduced me to last Christmas."

"Okay, thanks," said Harry.

"Good," said Sirius. "Now, Cygnus said he also has some news for you from 'Uncle Algie'. I guess it's a private matter but he said you and Neville would know. He's going to come to Hogwarts to speak with both of you about it next Sunday."

Harry glanced up at Neville to see the surprise on his mate's face. Looking back down at the mirror, he said, "Yeah, we do. Thanks for passing on the message."

"Alright, pup," said Sirius, not pushing. "Take care of yourself. And look after your friends."

"I will to both. Thanks, Sirius," he said.

"And, remember: Remus is right there and you can go directly to him if needs be," reminded the old dog before he disconnected.

Sliding the mirror back into his pocket Harry said, "If anyone needs anything from home, best let me know as soon as you can. I'll get Cygnus to pick it up before he visits next weekend."

Not getting a response, except for a meaningful glance from Neville, he went back to his assignment he was working on.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the Saturday of the weekend, Harry, as promised, loaned his Nimbus to Ginny so she could go try out for the now vacant slot on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. It seemed that a boy named Cormac McLaggen in Fourth Year was the seeker the previous year and, once he found out Wood was going to hold open tryouts for the slot this year, abused him and the other players and stormed off in a huff.

Apparently the twins danced a jig in happiness.

Harry and Neville went down to watch the tryouts. Both, because he was interested in how well Ginny flew. And because it gave him time to talk to Neville away from the girls.

"I've been thinking, Nev," said Harry.

"Should I alert the teaching staff?" asked Neville with only the barest of smirks.

"Prat!" said Harry. "Here I was, about to bring you into the world of prankdom, and you made a joke abou..." He stopped and said, "Hang on. That's even more of a reason."

Neville chuckled while he watched the practice.

"Let me try this again," said Harry. "I've been thinking we should practice more speaking that twin-speak the Weasley twins do, where they finish each other's sentences; but only in our group while we're in the Come and Go Room."

"Why?" asked Neville, confusedly.

"Because, I want to play a two part prank," said Harry. I want to prank the Weasley twins by polyjuicing ourselves to look like them and accusing them of taking polyjuice to look like us."

Neville snorted. "Let me get this right. You want us to look like them. And then you want to accuse them of being the imposters. Right? I take it we'd do this in public. Such as in, say, the Great Hall?"

"Right," replied Harry. "Or in their class, or something. Next, as they already know we'll be the imposters..."

"Naturally," said Neville.

"... we take them aside and have them join us in pranking the Great Hall by having there be _four_ Weasley twins all speaking twin-speak."

Neville smirked and said, "That's going to drive Professor McGonagall nuts. There's nothing inherently illegal about it; and it's only banned at the school for examination purposes. I _like_ it."

"We should do it for lunch only, as the length of the evening meal would mean we'd be there for more than an hour," said Harry. "We're already going to need two doses each."

"And the owl post will give us away as the owls can see right through it," said Neville. "Do we tell the girls?"

"We'll have to," replied Harry. "They'd be worried about us missing if we don't turn up."

"And where do you plan on getting the Polyjuice Potion from?" asked Neville.

"I was hoping the girls could brew it for us in the Come and Go Room," replied Harry

"Why not use the office of the etiquette club?" asked Neville.

"Nev!" exclaimed Harry happily. "That's bloody brilliant! No one will be able to find it and fiddle with it then."

With a smile, Neville said, "Alright, I'm in."

"Yes!" said Harry with a bit of a fist pump. "We'll tell the girls, this afternoon."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	52. Gone Demented

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Two – Gone Demented**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"You two are bonkers!" said Hermione.

"Hey, it's a harmless prank," said Harry.

"Yeah, it's not as if we're going down into the Chamber of Secrets," said Neville

"Or fight a ruddy great basilisk, or anything," said Harry.

That earned him a glare from all the girls, except Luna.

"It's just harmless fun," said Neville.

"It'll crack a few laughs," said Harry.

"And means the twins become the target of a prank, for a change," said Neville.

"Without anyone actually being hurt," said Harry.

"Oh, Merlin!" groaned Daphne. "They're doing it, again."

After first giving her head a little shake, trying to clear the confusion she was beginning to feel from the near twin-speak of the boys, Trace said, "And you want us to brew the Potion for you."

"You, Daphne and Hermione are the best brewers we've got," said Harry, getting up and walking over to one of the bookcases. "It's a pretty advanced potion to brew."

He looked through the shelving until he found a book called '_Moste Potente Potions_'. "We discussed this book last year, if you remember," he said, flipping through the pages. "Ah! Here it is."

Bringing the book back to where they were all sitting he placed the book with the pages opened to the potion. "Ingredients are: lacewing flies stewed for twenty-one days, leeches, powdered bicorn horn, knotgrass, fluxweed picked at full moon, shredded boomslang skin, and a bit of who one wants to turn into usually hair."

Thinking, Daphne said, "The two difficult to obtain ingredients are going to be the fluxweed picked at a full moon and the shredded bloomslang skin; and shredded boomslang skin and powdered bicorn horn are expensive."

"We can get the fluxweed here," said Luna. "It grows down near the edge of the Forbidden Forest."

"Really?" asked Hannah. It's supposed to be quite rare. I didn't know it was available outside of a herbologist's greenhouse, these days."

"Oh, the Forbidden Forest was where the founders, and others since, used to grow potion ingredients. So, if you look around the edge of the forest, you sometimes find some," replied Luna.

"Alright," said Tracey. "We'll go take a look. If we find it, there's a full moon coming up on the 30th of September."

Hermione, who had pulled the book over to read, said, "That's a couple of weeks away, but we have to wait for the lacewings to stew for twenty-one days, anyway."

"So, we're doing this?" asked Harry to the group.

The girls looked at one another before Daphne said, "If you're so determined to do this - then, yes."

The boys looked at each other and said, "Yes!" almost in unison.

"If anything, it's quite an advanced potion and we can use it to demonstrate a skill level above our year," said Daphne. "But, _you're_ going to have to get the ingredients we need, before we need them."

Harry rapidly nodded his head with a big grin on his face.

"As it's going to take about a month," said Hermione. "Where are we going to brew this where it won't be tampered with?"

"The etiquette club office," said Harry. "I had thought in here, but it means the door will always be visible - I think - and we don't want people just walking in and finding this place."

"So, you two have four weeks to practice talking like Fred and George Weasley and learning all you can about them," said Susan. "If you're going to temporarily steal their identities, you need to know how to _be_ them. Otherwise, people will quickly figure out you two are the imposters."

"The more I think about this, the more fun I think we're going to have with it," said Neville.

"Oh!" he said, turning back to the girls. "We're going to need, at least, four doses of it - possibly six. So, plan on making a decent sized batch of it."

'Why six?" asked Hannah.

"We need the first pair for when we play the prank on Fred and George," replied Harry, holding off his hand and ticking them off on his fingers; "we're going to need the second pair when, with Fred and George's help, we play the prank on the school in the Great Hall; and the third is if we're stuck in the Great Hall and it looks like going over the hour, we can sip the spare to extend the time."

"Polyjuice Potion is often quite handy to have," said Tracey. "We may as well brew up a decent sized batch of it."

"Good," said Harry. "Then I just need a shopping list for Sirius to pick up what we need from Diagon Alley. Self heating cauldrons, stirrers, stewing solution, et cetera."

"I still think you two are bonkers," said Hermione, looking at Harry and Neville.

Rather than looking abashed, both boys just grinned back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The four ladies rings and one male ring arrived for the other five members of the eight a couple days later. The rings were loaded with all the auto-detection spells they could load onto them. Charms, curses and potions that were tried to slip past them through their food or mail would be, in most cases, caught.

The rings were also charmed to remain invisible at all times, unless they detected something. At that time they would appear and flash or vibrate as necessary.

Harry, Daphne and Hermione instructed them on the wearing of the rings and how they worked. And, from then on, the Eight sat together and often passed notes, offered food, made silly gestures over the food, and anything else they could think of to have their rings pass over food and drink before it was touched with any part of their physical bodies.

Luckily, none of it was coming up with anything that appeared harmful or otherwise mind altering.

Remus also had Harry and the others hold back at the end of their classes and used the opportunity to run scans on all of them. None of the scans were showing any sort of harmful potion or charm.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The days were starting to march on and the Eight - or 'Harry and the Seven', as Harry and the others started to learn they were now being called by other students - were starting to get used to the added course and assignment load. The Polyjuice Potion was almost complete and the two boys had been practicing as often as possible 'twin-speak'. They were getting quite good at it.

They quickly figured out it was often best if Neville started a sentence as Harry was quite intuitive as to where the sentence should end. But, Neville did have his moments and could do it, too.

With Luna guiding the way, the girls found the fluxweed for the potion, and picked it during the full moon. Plus, they also found other botanical potion ingredients and carefully marked each for later use, if they needed it.

Sirius, as Harry knew he would, loved the idea of the prank and immediately went into the Alley and purchased the required, missing, ingredients and the equipment. And the girls set everything up in the club office.

It was Hannah who foresaw another problem, and she and Susan worked on solving it. While Neville wore Gryffindor colours, Harry did not. And the twins were also both a bit taller than the two boys. So, Hannah and Susan worked on transfiguring the robes of both boys into the right sized Gryffindor robes that would match Fred and George.

Next, they also figured out how to password the Spell Cancelling Charm, '_Finite Incantatem_' to stop someone casting it and undoing the change, with their names as the passwords. (That was a spell that later became a popular addition in the Auror - and even Unspeakable - spellcraft armoury.)

Ginny Weasley also made the Gryffindor Quidditch team and, as promised, he approached her and offered her the use of the Firebolt for the Gryffindor against Slytherin game. The girl almost cried in happiness.

Harry ensured she had ample opportunity to practice on it so she wouldn't be mounting it for the first time at the match.

The Eight's contentment came crashing down when Harry was contacted late one afternoon by Sirius via mirror.

"Bad news, pup," he said.

"Oh?" asked Harry, as the others all crowded around.

With a sigh, Sirius said, "Pettigrew managed to escape from Azkaban."

Shocked, Harry asked, "_How?_ I thought that place was supposed to be escape-proof!"

"Apparently, not," said Sirius. "Apparently, the guards relied _too_ heavily on the belief it was escape-proof, and the dementors. About once a month the prisoners are, one at a time, removed from their cells while the guards enter and scrub it clean.

"They forgot Pettigrew is a rat animagus and, instead of putting anti-animagus cuffs on him while he was out from under the anti-animagus wards on the cell, they put normal magic inhibiting cuffs on him, instead.

"They left him in another cell just watched over by a dementor. As soon as the guards moved away, he transformed into the rat. From experience, I know the dementors leave you alone while you're in animagus form. And he scurried out through the bars and away.

"The guards only left him alone for five minutes; but, that was five minutes too long. By the time they returned, he was long gone. A search of the island turned up nothing."

"Damn it!" growled Harry. "When does the news break?"

"The Prophet already has it," replied Sirius. "However, they've agreed to hold off on reporting it until tomorrow morning's edition; rather than releasing a special edition this afternoon."

"Alright," sighed Harry. "What's being done?"

"Well, here's the second bit of bad news," replied Sirius. "The Minister is absolutely convinced Pettigrew is going to go after you. So, he's going to station dementors at Hogwarts."

"_What?_" exclaimed Harry. "Is the man a naffing _idiot?!_ These children can't protect themselves from _dementors_!"

"No, they can't," replied Sirius. "The Minister is convinced the children are perfectly safe because the dementors are under Ministry control. However, we _all_ know that control is rather - tenuous.

"However, Dumbledore is also already fully aware of the Minister's intent to place dementors at the school, and has used his position as Headmaster to state they won't be allowed on the grounds. Instead, they'll be set to patrolling the area immediately outside the castle wards."

"That's _still_ too naffing close!" growled Harry.

"We know, but it's the best we can do, for now," said Sirius.

"And why the hell would the rat come after me?" asked Harry. "He was here, in the castle, for two years, already. If the rat wanted to make a try for me he'd have already done it!"

"That was our argument," replied Sirius. "However, Fudge is not a man who will listen to reason when he has his mind made up about something. He wants to be seen as doing _something_, rather than admit he's at a loss as to what to do."

"Damn it! Damn it! _Damn_ it!" growled Harry. "When do they get here?"

"They're already on their way," the old dog replied. "They're being herded across the land from the island even as we speak. They'll probably be there in a couple of days."

"_Herded?_" asked Harry. "Just how many of the naffing things are being sent here?"

"About a hundred," replied Sirius.

"Oh, this is just getting better and better!" grouched Harry.

"Well, your Aunt Amelia has offered Dumbledore a team of aurors to protect the students, and to teach the older years how to cast the patronus using your teaching methods. Which, by the way, are now part of the mandatory curriculum for the training of all aurors coming out of the academy from now on," said Sirius. "However, Dumbledore refused. His excuse is that the dementors won't come inside the grounds of the castle because they'll have been told not to.

"Personally, I think it's because he doesn't want to create the precedent of having aurors stationed at Hogwarts. And, he's using them as a way to place further controls on the students. The students won't be able to leave the castle without being escorted by a Professor."

"Stupid old fool!" snarled Harry.

Sirius nodded and said, "So, your Aunt Amelia is asking you, through me, to offer to teach the older years how to cast the Charm. The way to get past Dumbledore's restriction is to approach Professor Flitwick and offer him to teach it in his older years' classes."

"Yeah," sighed Harry. "_That_ I can do."

"Then, I've done my job and will leave you with it," said Sirius. "Good luck."

"Yeah, see you, Padfoot." sighed Harry. And the mirror went grey.

Turning to the others, he said, "I need to go and speak to Professor Flitwick. And, I'd best do that now."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Neville were waiting in the Entrance Hall for the arrival of 'Uncle Algie' - also known as the Unspeakable, Algernon Croaker - when what looked like a Seventh Year Ravenclaw student entered and said, "Boys. It's me."

The two boys looked at each other before Neville's eyes widened. He turned back to the student and, in a shocked voice, asked, "U.A.?"

"In the flesh," the student said with a grin. "I'm glad to see that fall from the third floor did you no lasting damage when I let go of your ankle."

Neville grinned and turned back to Harry. "It's him," he said.

The student, now identified as Uncle Algie, gestured to the Hall's antechamber and said, "Let's go in here, shall we?"

Harry and Neville looked around to make sure they weren't being watched before walking into the antechamber they were in immediately prior to the Sorting. Croaker followed them in, shut the door and immediately started casting wards about the place.

When he finished, he turned back to the two boys and allowed his glamour to drop. He was wearing his Unspeakable uniform, and reached up to allow the hood to drop back onto his shoulders.

"Lord Greengrass came to see me and hand-delivered the memories of you two in the Chamber, speaking to Riddle and fighting the basilisk," he said. "I must say, you two impressed the _hell_ out of me."

Neville blushed while Harry grinned. Neville still wasn't used to receiving praise. And praise by the Head Unspeakable was high praise, indeed.

"Because of the effort of both of you," continued Croaker, "we're that much closer to putting an end to Riddle. If what he said down there is true, we now know he aimed to create seven of those monstrosities.

"However, we believe he would have been able to only split his soul six times. You destroyed one in the diary - and using basilisk venom in the fang to do it was brilliant, by the way."

"That was Fawkes's idea, not mine," interrupted Harry.

"Irrespective of that, we now know that's a way to destroy them. And you helped us discover it," Croaker gently replied. "We also know of two - or, possibly, one now - fragments of soul that were in your scar when you arrived here, and the one inside Quirrell. Both of those 'fled' to parts unknown for now.

"That leaves _four_ parts, with each part possibly - even, probably - housed within horcruxes. To find those, we're going back over Riddle's past to see what else he may have used, and where he may have put it."

"Well," said Harry. "The diary was in the possession of Lucius Malfoy. It's possible other horcruxes are in the possession of other Death Eaters. If I was given one of those to keep safe, I wouldn't want it where someone could come across it, accidentally, or steal it. I'd put it in my vaults."

"If the goblins discovered you did that, they'd kill you," said Croaker. "It's a breach of their laws to..." The older man suddenly stopped and appeared to be thinking hard.

"Uncle Algie?" asked Neville, concerned.

"You know," he suddenly said. "Riddle wouldn't necessarily tell his DeeEees they were horcruxes; he'd just tell them it was important they be kept safe. Based on that information alone, they might _well_ have put such an item in their vaults."

Looking at Harry, he said, "Well done, Harry. If we all manage to survive that long, come and see me after you finish your education. I'll probably have a job for you in my Department. It's a rare wizard or witch who can think critically, like that."

"Thank you, Sir," replied Harry.

"Any other ideas you want to let me know about?" asked Croaker.

"Well," said Harry, "if I was looking to hide more of those horcruxes, I wouldn't just rely on my underlings. Once one was discovered in the possession of such a person, then it stands to reason they'd also search the possessions of the other known underlings. For example, it's led us to thinking about a horcrux in a possible vault.

"I'd be looking at hiding one or more of them, myself; probably more rather than one. But, I'd hide them in places significant to me; such as my childhood home. I mean, he made one out of his school time diary, or personal journal, or whatever it was supposed to be. Clearly, it was an item of significance to him. He might hide them in _places_ that are such, too.

"I'd look in Gaunt Manor, if there is such a place. And, maybe where he worked after school. And in the place he was raised before coming here. Hell, there might even be one here, since he spent seven years of his life here. What do you think?"

"Yeah," said Croaker, a little amazed. "You're _definitely_ coming to work with me when you finish your schooling. It's a good thing you're taking Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, or I'd be wanting to talk you into switching over to them. If you were magical-raised I'd insist on you taking Muggle Studies, too, if you weren't already taking it anyway.

"Those are all sound leads and go with what we've been thinking. I want you to keep on thinking about leads, too. Anything else?"

"Not on that, no," replied Harry. "However, Dumbledore is quite canny. He saw the two malevolent spirits for what they were, and he also knows of the diary. _He_ might well be searching for them, as well."

"I want to leave the old meddler out of it, for now," mused Croaker. "He has a bad habit of sticking his nose into matters and screwing things up six ways from Sunday."

"Neville? Anything from you?" asked the older man, turning to him.

"If he was going to hide one here," mused Neville. "It may very well be in the Chamber. After all, it takes a parseltongue to get in. But, the castle's a big place. It could even be in plain sight and we wouldn't know. It's a pity we don't have something we could use to pinpoint it for us. That is, if one is here, of course.

Looking up at Harry, suddenly he said, "One could even be his Award for Special Services to the School in the Trophy Room."

"How do we know if it is?" asked Harry.

"_That_, you leave to me," said Croaker. "Do you still have the diary?"

"Ummm - no," said Harry. "I used it to trick Malfoy into freeing his abused house elf, Dobby."

Croaker snorted and said, "I saw the memory of that you provided to Lord Greengrass. Did Dobby give it back to you?"

"No," said Harry, a little disappointed. "I didn't think to ask him for it back."

"Call him for me," said Croaker.

Harry shrugged and said, "Alright - Dobby!"

The excitable little house elf appeared. "Did the great, wise and wonderful Harry Potter Sir call Dobby?"

Croaker snorted in amusement.

"I did, and thank you for coming, Dobby." replied Harry.

The little elf teared up and said, "The Great Harry Potter Sir thanked Dobby. Dobby is such an honoured elf."

Ignoring the remarks, Harry asked, "Do you remember what happened to the diary I hid the sock within after your ex-Master gave it to you?"

"Oh, yes, Harry Potter Sir. Dobby put it away for safekeeping," the elf replied.

"Keep the sock, of course. But, could I have the diary back, please? It's very important," asked Harry.

"Certainly, Sir," said Dobby. He popped away for a few seconds before returning with another pop. Holding it in his hand, he offered the diary to Harry, "Here you are, Sir."

Accepting it, Harry said, "Thank you very much, my friend. You may return to what you were doing."

Tearing up again, the little elf said, "The Great Harry Potter Sir considers Dobby his friend!" before he popped away.

Harry silently offered the diary to Croaker. "May I ask why you need it? After all, the soul piece within it was destroyed."

"Yes, but the magical signature and residue are not," said Croaker. "_That_'s what we'll use to determine the others." He dropped the diary into a pocket in his robes. "Now, the Chamber."

"Yes?" asked Neville.

"I believe you said it takes parseltongue to get in?" the older man asked.

"Yes," said Harry. "In parseltongue, it's 'Open' to get into the secret entrance and 'Open' again to open the doors to the Chamber itself. To open the mouth on the statue, if that's important, it's 'Speak to me, Slytherin; greatest of the Hogwarts' four'."

Croaker drew a glowing crystal from another pocket and said, "Speak those three into this crystal. It'll record it in perfect clarity."

"Errr..." said Harry a little abashed. "I can only speak it when looking at a snake, or picture of a snake."

Croaker smiled and made a slight gesture. Suddenly, a picture of a snake appeared in his hand. He held it next to the crystal.

Harry blinked in surprise before leaning forward and speaking clearly, §Open§ - §Open§ - §Speak to me, Slytherin; greatest of the Hogwarts Four.§ before standing back up straight.

Croaker dropped the crystal back into his pocket. "And that's how we do it in the DoM, boys. Now, I believe the entrance is located in the second floor girl's bathroom? The one Myrtle usually haunts?"

"Yes," said Harry. "There's a circle of sinks just inside the door. The sink that directly faces you has an engraving of a snake on the faucet. Say 'Open' in parseltongue to that and it opens up to reveal the entrance. Be aware, though; it's a dirty, messy slide down. Fawkes brought us back up the slippery pipe afterwards."

"Thank you for the warning," said Croaker. "I think that's it, for now. Do you boys have anything else for me?"

"No," said Neville.

"Ummm - just a query, actually," said Harry.

"Yes?"

"Why don't the Ministry place tracking charms on their prisoners?" he asked. "In case of escape, I mean. Along the lines of the tracers we have to track us for underage magic."

Croaker smiled and asked, "And how would we go about that?"

"Well, I know it's illegal to place Tracking Charms on citizens, but prisoners do not have the rights of citizens. And it's only illegal to _place_ the Charm on someone, not _leave_ it there if it's already there.

"If _I_ was doing it, I'd find some way to engrave it in rune form onto the bone of their skull - as that bone grows the least in the human body - so the Charm can't be '_Finite Incantatem_'ed. At least, that way, there won't ever be another at-large escapee like Pettigrew.

"I'd also not tell them I was doing it, either. You Unspeakables like to keep secrets, so it's something you can do and not tell anyone you did it."

Croaker grinned back and said, "Well, you've thought it through, this far. How do you propose to secretly engrave it on their skull?"

"Alright. You've now got all these Lords and other purebloods recently arrested," replied Harry. "Tell the prisoners 'someone with political power' wants to see them all receive a proper health check. Do it during the health check. A little Numbing Charm or Potion for the area, and it can be done.

"That way, if there are any more escapes, you can track them down. It should be a doddle then.

"And, if they are lawfully released at a later date, you still have a way to track them in case they reoffend."

Croaker chuckled, shook his head a little slowly, and said, "_You_ - are _definitely_ coming to work for me."

Turning to Neville, he said, "Not a word about this to anyone, Neville. I don't want to have to Memory Charm you."

A little fearful, Neville said, "Not a word, Uncle Algie. I promise."

Croaker nodded and, with a grin, asked, "Anything else; oh, font of ideas?"

Harry grinned and replied, "Not right now, no. But I'll keep you in mind, if I do."

Croaker laughed and said, "See that you do."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"So, there you have it, Professors," said Harry, talking to both Professors Flitwick and McGonagall in Professor Flitwick's office. "The Head of the DMLE has tasked me with asking you if you wouldn't mind allowing me to teach your older years how to cast the Patronus Charm."

"It's a very good idea," said Professor Flitwick before turning to Professor McGonagall. "Minerva?"

"Do it. And we won't be telling Alb... the Headmaster you're doing it, either," she said to Harry, before turning to the Charms Master. "Let Mister Potter know when the classes are on and I'll let the Professors know for the classes he misses that he's otherwise busy on a special project for the pair of us."

"Are you sure you can do this, Mister Potter?" asked Professor Flitwick. "It's quite an advanced charm and most adults can't do it."

Harry nodded and said, "Over summer, and in secret, at the request of Madam Bones, I taught a class of two dozen aurors who were, until then, unable to cast the charm after many months of attempts. By the end of a couple of hours I had all but two of them casting fully corporeal patronuses."

Both Professors looked back at him in shock. The first to recover, Professor McGonagall asked, "_How?_"

"As I explained to that class, the instruction of what sort of memory to use is wrong," explained Harry. "You're told you need to use a happy memory. While that is inherently true, it needs to be more than that. Think of your own happy memories. You'll see the memory also has a strong element of love involved with it.

"When I tried to teach this charm to Herm... Miss Granger, she tried to use the happy memory of her being handed her first report card with top marks across all subjects. However, that memory failed because, while she thought it may have been the happiest moment of her life, there was no love in it.

"So, we found a new one for her. It was a memory of her father cuddling her in his arms and telling her how proud he was of her. It was her father's love, and her returned love, that made the memory powerful enough. The feeling of love is the memory required, not happiness."

Both Professors thought about that for a few moments before Professor Flitwick said, "You know, that makes complete and perfect sense. Love has a magic all its own. And, my own memory includes the element of love."

"As does mine," said Professor McGonagall. "And it is love, rather than happiness, that is anathema to dementors and lethifolds."

Turning back to Harry Professor Flitwick said, "Alright, Mister Potter. You're about to become a temporary Professor of Charms at Hogwarts. Your first class is 9.00am on Monday morning."

"Thank you, Professor," replied Harry before turning to Professor McGonagall. "And that means I'll be missing your class first, Professor McGonagall."

Nodding, she smirked and said, "In that case, I shall let myself know you won't be attending."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

That evening, Dumbledore stood to make his announcement. "Our school, starting from some time over the next few days, will be playing host to some of the dementors of Azkaban; who will be here on Ministry of Magic business."

Except for Harry and the Seven, the Headmaster, and Professors Flitwick and McGonagall, no one was aware, at that time, as to the escape of Pettigrew from Azkaban.

"They will be stationed at every entrance to the grounds, and patrolling just outside the wards," he continued. "And while they are with us, I must make it plain that nobody is to leave school without permission. Dementors are _not_ to be fooled by tricks or disguises - or even invisibility cloaks," he added blandly, and the Eight all glanced at one another. "It is not in the nature of a dementor to understand pleading or excuses. I, therefore, warn each and every one of you to give them no reason to harm you. I look to the prefects, and our Head Boy and Girl, to make sure no student runs afoul of the creatures. That is all."

Surprising the Ravenclaws, who had all completed their punishment for their treatment of Luna, the Eight were sitting at the Ravenclaw table. Harry's argument for doing it was that he needed the 'Claws to now understand that he was once more recognising them as fellow students.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	53. Four Twins

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Three – Four Twins**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry arrived early to his first Seventh Year Charms class on the Monday morning and sat perched on a stack of books in the front corner of the classroom.

As the Seventh Years NEWT class filed in, they saw him and started to talk among themselves, wondering why he was there.

Professor Flitwick chivvied them into their seats and to quiet before mounting his stack of books at his lectern. "As you are all aware, by now," he began, "a very dangerous convict has escaped Azkaban, and is believed - by the Minister - to be on his way to Hogwarts.

"We, the staff, very much doubt he is. However, the Minister has decided to send dementors to guard Hogwarts. They are currently surrounding the school, outside the boundaries, and at each entrance to the grounds.

"With the support of the DMLE, and the permission of the Deputy Headmistress, it has been decided the older students, at least, should be taught a special charm. Can anyone guess what it is?"

The Professor then led the class through the basics of the Charm and how it was one of the very few Charms known to drive away dementors.

"Now, you will all have, no doubt, noticed Mister Potter has joined us. The reason he is here is because, besides being the youngest person to have ever successfully cast the Patronus Charm..." Harry looked at him in shock. He didn't know that. "... he has also successfully taught this charm to people who had, until then, not been able to cast it.

"For this class, please accord him the same respect you pay me, as he will be the Adjunct Professor who will teach you this charm. I suggest you pay close attention, as it is quite possible this charm will save your life." Turning to Harry, he gestured to the class and said, "Mister Potter..."

Harry rose and said, "Some of you have only seen me cast my patronus once. Some of you may have also seen my patronus as I've sent it galloping through the corridors of the school. But, to ensure you all know I can do it at will..." he popped his wand into his hand, drew in a bit of magic, thought his happy and loving thought, and, "... _Expecto Patronum!_"

Prongs flew out his wand, trotted a few paces forward, stopped and looked around, and trotted back. Harry held it there while he turned back to the class. Some of the students gasped and chatted a little excitedly to their seat mates.

"As you can see, my patronus takes the form of a stag - my father's animagus form," he said. "Each person's patronus form is unique to them. It is always of an animal and, in one case I know of, a magical animal.

"The components of this charm - and you'd best consider writing this down as it may be in your NEWT exam - are: - intent, as always - the incantation of _expecto patronum_ - no discernable wand movement, other than point - a happy memory that includes the emotion of love - and, as always, a push with your magic.

"Now, unlike most other charms, we are going to focus almost this entire lesson on the _emotional_ component. Once you have that, the rest is relatively easy.

Oliver Wood raised his hand.

"Yes, Mister Wood?" asked Harry.

"If this charm is so relatively easy, as you put it, why can't everyone do it?" he asked.

"A very logical question, Mister Wood," replied Harry with a smile.

"_Five_ points, Mister Wood," said Professor Flitwick.

"The reason, is because most people do not understand what is meant by a happy memory," answered Harry. "How many OWLs did you receive Mister Wood?"

"Seven," he replied a little sheepishly.

"Alright," Harry smiled. "Were you happy with that?"

"It was alright," he replied.

Nodding, Harry asked, "And how would you have felt if you received - say - eleven?"

"Ecstatic!" the boy firmly said.

"Good," said Harry. "However, that feeling would _not_ have been enough to power a Patronus Charm to a fully corporeal patronus. And that's because, while you would have been ecstatic with such a result, there would have been no love involved.

"So, here are some examples of happy, and loving, thoughts you may want to consider to power your own patronus," said Harry. "And, by all means, write them down.

"Being held in the loving arms of your father, or mother - the love you feel being a big brother or sister to your little brother or sister, and having them think you're their hero - the love you feel for your boyfriend or girlfriend - the love you have for your favourite grandparent - the feel and love of family you had at Christmas, while you were sharing around gifts - or something along those lines."

Harry gave them a while to write it down.

Continuing, he said, "Now, while you're sitting there, I want you to focus on those subjects - or a similar one - and remember it as best as you can. Think about _all_ of it - remember _all_ of it - and focus on the feeling of love you felt at that time. Let it fill you up.

He gave them a chance to think about that.

Sitting off to one side he saw a Hufflepuff student almost flushing with her eyes closed. She almost seemed to glow.

'Perfect,' thought Harry.

When she opened her eyes he said to her, "Miss Higgs? Would you mind coming down here out front, please?"

A little shocked at being addressed directly, the girl then blushed and came around to stand out front. Harry then stood her facing parallel to the desks and back out towards the door.

"Excellent," said Harry. "Now, Miss Higgs; it was very easy for me to see you had found your memory. You were practically _radiating_ love. So, I want you to draw your wand and stand loosely with it in your hand..." she drew it out of her sleeve and held it down to the side. "...Excellent."

"Now the incantation is _Expecto Patronum_," he said. "Bring that feeling of love back to the forefront of your mind. Focus on it. Let it fill you again. _Revel_ in it."

He watched her for a few moments; and, as she started to flush a little again, he softly said, "Cast now."

She effortlessly raised her wand and softly called, "_Expecto Patronum_." A tiger shot out of her wand and stood there for a moment before it faded away. She'd lost focus.

"Wow!" she loudly whispered.

Professor Flitwick laughed out loud and clapped his hands in glee. "Very, _very_, well done, Miss Higgs! _Twenty_ points to Hufflepuff!"

"Your patronus is very powerful, Miss Higgs," said Harry, grinning his head off. "The apex predator of Asia - the Asian tiger."

"Wow!" she said a little louder.

"Please, take your seat," said Harry gesturing to her stool. "And _please_ practice it in your own time. Though, if we have time, I'll ask you to cast it again before the class ends.

As she, almost in a trance, went back to her place, Harry said, "So, as you can see, you can _do_ this. It just takes the right memory. And no one needs to know what it is except you.

"Next volunteer, please?" he asked, looking around expectantly.

Harry worked through almost all the students before the time ran out.

"With the professor's permission, I'll return next week to assist the others of you. However, this does not stop you from practicing the charm on your own time," he looked to the Professor who was grinning back and nodding his head. "Excellent. I shall see you all again next week."

Over the next couple of weeks, Harry was able to work through all the Sixth and Seventh Years. About seventy percent of them were able to cast at least a misty shield. About fifty-five percent were able to cast at least an 'alright' corporeal patronus. A few had near perfect patronuses that looked almost solid.

He was disappointed the numbers appeared so low. However, both Professors were incredibly happy with his results; and told him so. Their most optimistic targets were only _half_ what he actually accomplished.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During Harry's stint as an 'Adjunct' Professor. Neville suggested it was the best time to implement their prank on the twins and the school. So, on the Friday as they left Charms together, they grabbed their already prepared Polyjuice Potions and met with Susan and Hannah not far from the History of Magic class. They'd found out the Fifth Year Gryffindors had that class this period and would be coming out soon.

Neville and Harry chugged their potions back and, as they were changing, the two 'Puffs transfigured their robes and other clothing to match the Fifth Year Gryffindors they were mimicking.

The girls checked out their handiwork and, happy with the results, left them to it. Laughing all the way down to the Great Hall.

To not give away who was Polyjuiced, the Group - minus two - sat at the Hufflepuff table.

Both boys joined in with the group of Fifth Year Gryff's and just started chatting with whomever.

Lee Jordan came hurrying up from behind and said, "Sorry I'm late, mates. Professor McGonagall wanted to make sure I was prepared for next week's game. And remind me, again, I'm not to abuse the Snakes."

Neville said, "It's sweet, Lee, my man..."

Harry said, "... but you're still going to, right?"

Lee grinned and said, "Of course."

The real twins heard Lee and, stopping to wait for him, turned around.

Harry and Neville saw the twins had turned from talking to Angela Johnson and Alicia Spinnet.

"Ahhh!" exclaimed Harry, straight away, before the real twins saw them.

"Doppelgängers!" exclaimed Neville.

The twins looked back in shock. So did everyone else for that matter.

"Ladies, those aren't us!" said Harry.

"They're frauds!" cried Neville.

"Mimics!" cried Harry.

"Imposters!" cried Neville.

"Fakes!" cried Harry.

"Besides, we're much better looking..." said Neville.

"...than those two!" declared Harry.

"They're probably snakes..." accused Neville.

"... come to learn..." accused Harry.

"... our Quidditch strategies!" they accused together.

Everyone just looked between the two sets of twins, utterly confused while Harry and Neville glared at the twins.

The twins, however, looked at each other and grinned.

"Well, brother of mine," said Fred.

"It appears the jig is up!" said George.

"Right, then..." said Neville.

"... it's off to Professor McGonagall..." said Harry.

"... with you two!" said both.

Grabbing one each, the two boys quickly hustled them away. As soon as they were around a corner, one of the real twins said, "This way!"

And all four took off down a corridor.

They were shown into yet another secret passage where the real twins stopped and turned to Harry and Neville.

"Harrikins!" said one.

"... and, Neville," said the other.

"We presume," they said together.

Harry and Neville grinned at each other. Neville asked, "You like?"

"Brilliant!" said one.

"Absolutely!" said the other.

"Ready to prank the entire school together?" asked Harry.

"Lunch?" grinned Fred - or George.

"Lunch!" said the other three, together.

That had them all laughing.

The secret passage led down to the ground floor and they entered back into the castle proper not far from the Entrance Hall. "I wish we'd known of that one in First Year," said Neville.

"Yeah, it would make getting back to both Gryffindor and Ravenclaw that much easier," said Harry.

Before walking into the Entrance Hall, Harry and Neville topped up their Polyjuicing and mixed themselves up with the real twins.

One of them even adjusted Harry's tie and said, "We're never that neat and tidy."

By then, lunch was in full swing and the four walked in two-by-two chatting to whoever was really next to them.

The twins liked to sit with their backs to the wall. So the four immediately moved across to the wall and headed in single file up behind the Seventh Years on their way to where the Fifth Years normally sat.

It took the Hall a little while to notice. But, just as they reached their normal places to sit, the whole Hall was staring at them in shock.

"What?" said - someone.

"They think I'm getting better looking each day."

"I'm the one that's getting better looking!"

"Not you. Me!"

"Oh, shoosh. You know _I'm_ the better looking one."

"_Misters_ Weasley!" shrilled Professor McGonagall from the head table.

"Yes, Professor?" all four called back, trying to look innocent.

Professor McGonagall put both elbows on the table and just dropped her head into her hands.

"Whatever it was, Professor..."

"... we didn't do it!"

And, in a four way chorus, "Honest!"

All four, surprised, looked at each other and grinned while many in the Hall burst into laughter.

Professor Flitwick was trying to console Professor McGonagall but was laughing too much to do the best job of it.

Remus - Professor Lupin - was laughing his head off and banging his hand on the table.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"I can't believe we got a week's detention," muttered Neville.

"Hey, don't blame me," said Harry. "It was the twins that bollixed it up."

"Oi!" they heard in stereo.

Turning to look back at them, Harry said, "You just _had_ to see if you could annoy Snape, didn't you. It was a perfect, unpunishable prank until then."

"What do you mean..."

"... unpunishable?"

"Just that," said Neville. "There's nothing illegal or against the rules of Hogwarts about using Polyjuice _unless_ you attempt to use the potion to cheat on exams."

"And we weren't doing that," said Harry. "Therefore, we couldn't be punished for it."

"We didn't know that," said one.

The four were currently in the Potions 'lab' scrubbing cauldron after cauldron. Who knew you could actually go through so many?

"Nooo - You just decided to use the fact we were impersonating you to prank Snape in plain sight," grouched Neville. "He then nabbed _us_ for the same crime as accomplices. And an accomplice gets the same punishment as the instigator."

They scrubbed for a little while longer before one of the twins asked, "So, this Polyjuice Potion your girls brewed..."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The 31st of October was the first Hogsmeade visit for the year. As they were now Third Years, except for Luna, it's was the first Hogsmeade visit for the group. And the group generally wanted to make a day of it.

It was Daphne that looked sympathetically at Harry and told the others that she and Harry wouldn't be joining them. "I want Harry to join me for a quiet time of discussion as we go for a walk. We'll also visit some of the shops, but it should just be Harry and me for this day."

"Oh?" asked Hermione before it dawned on her. She blushed and said, "Oh! Sorry! I forgot. I'm not a very good friend."

Harry reached out and took her hand in his own. "You're a wonderful friend, Hermione," he said kindly. "I don't expect everyone to remember every special date just because _I_ can. All of you already have to remember over a dozen birthdays, plus the holidays, plus other important events. It's okay."

While all of them shared a couple carriages to take them in to Hogsmeade, they split off once they disembarked in the village. Harry and Daphne strolled arm in arm through the village setting within their mind where everything could be found before they actually began their shopping.

"Where to first, my love?" asked Harry.

"Well, I promised Luna I'd pick her up some more parchment, ink and quills to replace that which was either damaged or stolen from her. And I need more, as well," she replied.

"Sounds good. That would be Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop at the other end of High Street," replied Harry. "Let's go."

After picking up the required stationery needs for Luna, Daphne also picked up extra parchment and, when Harry said he need some too, she picked up more for him. Added were more quills and a little more ink. Neither realised, before the year started, just how much stationery they'd be going through this year.

On exiting, Harry looked to Daphne and asked, "Next?"

"Next door," she replied.

"Errm - that's Gladrags Wizardwear," said Harry, a little warily.

"I know," said Daphne. "I haven't had a chance to visit the store in _ages_, so I want to go in to see what they're stocking."

Harry sighed and said, "Anything for you, my love. You know that. But, _please_, don't make me into a dress-up doll. Not with all the students running about today."

Daphne smiled back and said, "Okay, no making you dress up in fine clothes just so I can _see_ you in nice clothes. I promise."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief as they mounted the front porch of the store and entered.

Though Daphne didn't make him dress up in nice clothes, as soon as she started working through the women's underwear section, Harry made a little squeak noise and took off for the men's section.

There, he found some nice shirt and trouser combinations and decided to try them on, himself. Inside the change room he quickly changed before stepping out intent on calling Daphne over to take a look.

There was no need, though, as she was standing there waiting for him with a smirk on her face.

He was surprised to see her before he frowned and said, "Please, don't tell me you went through the - unmentionables just to get me to do this."

She grinned back and said, "No. But, thank you for the future idea."

With a pained expression he just sighed.

She lightly laughed and said, "Turn around and let me have a good look."

Obediently, he turned slowly around with his arms held slightly away from his sides

"Your taste is improving," she said. "But, it's not there yet. What else have you got to try on?"

Harry muttered something about finicky women and returned to the change booth. He stepped out a minute later wearing another combination.

Daphne looked up and down his form for a moment before she slowly twirled her finger point down. He'd already learned that particular signal.

He slowly pivoted on the spot the full three-sixty before stopping with an eyebrow cocked.

She nodded a little and asked, "What else?"

With a sigh he replied, "I've only got one more combination to try." And returned to the booth.

A minute later he was stepping back out. The first thing he saw was more men's clothes draped over her arm. "Da-aph," he whined. "You _promised_!

"Shoosh, you," she said looking him over before making the finger-twirl motion again. "I only promised not to make you dress up so I could see you dressed up. You're buying some of these."

After he spun the three-sixty he saw her standing there with her hip cocked and lightly rubbing her chin. Harry called it 'Daphne's Fashion Deliberation Pose'. He only saw her doing it when she was looking at clothing, shoes, other accoutrements, linen, place settings, or similar; or him in new clothes.

She suddenly stepped forward and handed him a pair of trousers. "Try these with the second shirt," she said before offering him a shirt. "And then this with the first pair of trousers. Set what you're currently wearing aside. I like it."

Harry sighed and returned to the booth, stepping out a minute later in one of her combinations.

A slow twirl and she nodded, "Set that aside, too. Now the other one."

In and out again. Twirl.

Frowning, she shook her head and said, "No. Grab the two outfits I had you set aside. You're buying them."

Knowing complaining would do him no good, Harry just shot her a pained expression before returning to the booth. Stepping back out in the 'civilian' garb he wore from the castle he handed Daphne what wasn't selected and went to the counter with the two shirts and two pairs of trousers that were.

Walking past, she said, "Leave those there, for now. I want your opinion on some things I'm thinking of buying."

Glancing at the sales clerk with another pained expression - which had the clerk grinning back - he dutifully followed Daphne over to the women's side of the store.

When Daphne turned to make sure he was following, she said, "Don't pull that face at me. You went and tried on clothes on your own volition. Now, you're going to help me with mine."

The sales clerk began to fold the clothing harry had laid on the counter before her, ready for processing when she heard, "_Gahh!_ _Daphne!_"

"It's called _underwear_, Harry."

"It's all - all - _frilly_ and stuff!"

"Girl's wear frilly stuff, Harry. Now, what do you _think_?"

"_I'm_ not wearing it! How would _I_ know?"

"Well, think about _me_ wearing it."

"_Gahh_ - _Uurkk!_ - _Geeehh!_"

"What's _wrong_ with you? - Now, would you prefer me in _this_ - or _this_?"

"_Gah-iii!_"

"Hey!" *finger snapping sounds* "Snap out of it!"

"Daaa - Ph_nee!_"

"We're _betrothed_, Harry. You're _allowed_ to think of me that way. Now, _come on_! Which should I get?"

"_Naaa_ - _Errr..._"

"Both, then."

A few moments later and Daphne came back out leading a clearly stunned Harry by the hand. She tossed two pairs of rather delicate bra and knickers sets on the counter and said, "Add these, too, please."

Not trusting herself to say anything, the sales clerk prepped the underwear for packing and processed the lot.

When she gave the price, Daphne looked at a still stunned Harry before she rolled her eyes and lifted his right hand. "By ring, please," she said.

The sales clerk took the imprint off the ring to bill the vaults directly, and handed the bag to Daphne.

Daphne spun Harry around and, hooking her hand in his elbow, hustled him out of the shop.

As soon as the door closed, the sales clerk burst out laughing.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a long day at Hogsmeade the Seven returned to the castle. Harry was acting a bit maudlin but Daphne was able to snap him out of it when she said, "I'll not be going to the feast tonight, either. You and I are going to have a lovely evening in the Come and Go Room. You are to wear the first outfit I had you purchase, today. Throw a light cloak on over it and pick me up at the bottom of the secret passage in the dungeons just after everyone else is seated for the feast."

Harry happily nodded.

As instructed, he was waiting for Daphne at the appointed time. She approached wearing a lovely blouse and skirt combination with a light jacket and cloak on over the top.

Harry wrapped her in his arms and said, "I like this outfit on you. It's quite - 'businessy' yet still casual enough for a night out."

"That's the look I was going for," she replied with a smile. Stepping apart, she glanced around before reaching up and twisting the wall sconce. As the passage entrance opened, she said, "Come on." And led him inside.

As they approached the Room, Harry could see there was already a door in place. He looked to Daphne with a quizzical look but she only smirked in response. Reaching the door he opened it and stepped aside for her before following her in and closing the door.

Before he even had a chance to look around she cast the Door Sealing Charm on the door, followed by a Wizarding Notice-Me-Not. Harry was surprised. They'd never gone to that length before.

Turning around, he saw what she had done. He was gobsmacked.

Like he had done for her the first two years on Valentine's Day, she'd set up a single table for a restaurant meal. However, instead of it being on a balcony looking towards the Eiffel Tower for Valentine's Day in First Year, and on a patio under a gazebo looking across a Pacific Island beach in Second Year, Daphne had selected a rooftop penthouse apartment looking across the New York skyline.

They'd entered as if through the main doors of the apartment and then passed through a floor to ceiling set of glass sliding doors onto the patio. Harry could even just faintly hear the sounds of traffic many floors below.

Waiting for them was a Greengrass house elf.

"I know we're in the Come and Go Room," said Harry. "But what _is_ this place?"

"This is the New York Greengrass property. A penthouse on one of the many skyscraper apartment buildings here - there," said Daphne. "This is the place we come if we want to catch a stage play on Broadway, or go shopping in Fourth Avenue - the magical fashion shopping district - or visit the MaNY district - the Magical area of New York district."

As she was talking, Harry guided Daphne to a seat at the table.

"Shopping in New York is _amazing_; and Mother tries to come here at least once a year," said Daphne, getting comfortable in her chair. "They have the _best_ fashions in the colonies here. And, I know she brought Astoria here in June for a week, a couple weeks before the end of the school year."

The little house elf waited until they were comfortable before he placed a bottle of alcohol free red wine on the table next to Harry's hand. He didn't even look at it before pulling the cork and filling Daphne's and his own glass as he was paying most of his attention to Daphne telling him about New York.

"And what made you think of choosing this as a locale for this evening?" he asked.

"I wanted to show you one of the properties the Greengrasses own and hope you will consider it as part of the itinerary for our honeymoon," she calmly said. "I intend to show you around the apartment after dinner."

"What a _clever_ idea," mused Harry. "We can do this for all the properties."

Daphne smiled, "My thoughts, exactly."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	54. A Falling Flame

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Four – A Falling Flame**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a short dinner, where they discussed a wide range of topics Daphne had engineered to take Harry's mind off what day it was, Daphne took him on a tour of the apartment. They enjoyed their meal on the bottom floor with it's wide outside deck and rooftop garden, then she led him through the lower floors showing him the large modern kitchen, the parlour, the games room, and two offices.

Next she led him upstairs where he saw two guest rooms, the room Astoria usually occupied, the one _she_ usually occupied, and the master suite with its own small sitting room.

She led him over to the bed and had him sit on the foot of it.

"Sit back a bit, my love," she said.

Harry slid back until his knees were hard up against the footboard. She then pushed him until he was laid back. Before she kicked her slip on shoes off and hopped up onto the bed on her knees either side of his thighs. Her full circle skirt flared out.

"Ahhh - Daph?" asked Harry, unsure of what as going on.

Ignoring his question she smiled as she knee-walked up either side of his body until she could sit back on his hips.

Smiling down at him, she pulled the bottom of her blouse out of her skirt before she began to undo the buttons on her blouse. Harry's eyes opened wide, staring at her in shock.

"Ummm - Daph? W-what are you - doing?"

"_Relax_, Harry," she purred as she continued to undo buttons. "You've been an absolute gentleman. But we _are_ betrothed. And, I want to give you a _very_ happy memory to go with the bad ones for this day."

"Ummm - Daph? W-we're only - ummm - only thirteen..." he stammered. "It's nice of-of you to off-offer what y-you're offering..."

"We're not going to go all the way, silly," she said, reaching the last button. "I just thought you might like to be introduced to the girls."

Harry looked like he was hyperventilating, he was panting so much. But Daphne was very pleased to feel Harry's excitement make itself known under her bum.

Taking her blouse off and tossing it to the side on the bed, she said, "Do you recognise this bra, Harry? You helped me pick it out."

Harry nodded his head rapidly, eyes still wide open. Daphne thought that, if she wasn't sitting on him and pinning him down, he'd probably take off.

Slowly, she reached for the bra clasp in the middle of her back. She knew it also made her breasts - which had grown quite a bit over the past twelve months - stick right out on her chest.

Harry's eyes were locked on her form. He had sweat forming on his upper lip and just below his hairline, and he was breathing like a prize fighter. His hands twitched where they lay loose at his sides outside her legs.

"I figured," she softly said, "that if you had a really happy memory on this day, it might help to keep the bad ones away."

Clasp released, Daphne brought her arms back around the front and crossed them one at a time to slide the straps off her shoulders.

Harry's eyes were darting all over the place.

"I don't mind if you stare at my breasts, Harry," she purred.

With both straps now down her arms she allowed her bra to fall into her lap.

"After all, you can't be introduced to them, if you don't get to look at them," she smiled.

From where he was lying, Harry could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, his man-wand was painfully erect and pressed between his groin and her lady-cauldron, he was sweating far too much, and he was panting as if he'd just completed an hour of wand work against the target dummies.

But, he noticed almost none of it. His entire focus was fixed on the sight before him. He had no idea what size she would be; to him it did not matter. He ached to reach out and touch them, to fondle them, to _squeeze_ them. He wanted to tweak her nipples, play with her pale areolæ, and caress the milky white flesh.

"Do you like them, Harry?" she purred, raising her own hands to cup them, to use her index fingers and thumbs to gently tweak her own nipples.

Harry, unable to form coherent sentences, to speak even a sound from his tightly constricted throat except little squeak sounds, nodded his head vigorously.

Smiling, she lowered her hands and sought out his. Grasping them she began to lift them off the bed, turning her own hands until she had his palm out in her own with his hands resting on her thighs.

Lifting them, she said, "If you're going to get to know them, Harry; you need to be able to _feel_ them." And placed the palms of his hands firmly onto her breasts.

Harry thought he was going to faint. Hesitantly at first, he began to move his hands about. He became bolder in his movements, his touch.

For Daphne, she felt the tingles all the way down to her pit. And, when Harry finally became bold enough to tweak her nipples, she felt the flaming surge of desire course through her. It made her tummy do flip-flops. It made her flesh goosebump. It made her insides turn to water.

For Daphne, it was the highest form of pleasure she'd ever experienced. Her own hands felt nowhere _near_ as good. She could enjoy what he was doing for hours. But they didn't have time. And she was not sure she could stop if they went any further.

With a moan of both desire and frustration, she sat back up straight. Harry's hands followed her.

Enjoying the feeling of his hands on her breasts, Daphne had her eyes closed. She moaned again.

Opening her eyes again, she looked down at the boy-man that would become her husband, her lover, her partner.

"Did you enjoy that, Harry?" she asked. "Because I did."

Harry nodded his head and finally found his voice. "Yes," he croaked. "You're beautiful, my love."

At his words, Daphne felt another surge down in her loins, her tummy again flip-flopped.

Reluctantly, she climbed off him and kneeled alongside.

Harry sighed in disappointment, but was happy his man-wand and the twins were no longer being crushed. He lay back with an absolute look of bliss on his face as he looked lovingly into the eyes of his betrothed.

Daphne reached for her bra and put it on, looking back into the very happy face of her love as she did. She watched when the look of disappointment flitted across his face for the barest of moments as the bra covered her girls again. With the clasp reconnected she donned her blouse and knee-shuffled off the foot of the bed.

Standing again, she buttoned herself back up before tucking the tails back into her skirt. The whole time, Harry lay there watching her with a smile on his face.

Popping her wand out she cast a Cleaning Charm over the front of Harry's pants before walking into the ensuite. Out of sight of her man, she lifted her skirt to do the same to her very damp panties.

When she walked back out and slipped her shoes back on, Harry was sitting on the foot of the bed and scrubbing his fingers through his hair.

"We need to go," she said.

"Yeah," he replied. "Just trying to get my heart rate to slow down."

After a few moments he stood back up and reached out a hand to hold her own.

Together they left the apartment and the Room.

Just as they stepped outside, Harry turned her into his arms and hugged her tightly to him. "Thank you, beloved," he said, fully of happy emotion.

"My absolute pleasure," she returned. "And, thank you for not pushing me beyond what I was willing to give."

"Never!" he firmly replied.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The day before the match between Gryffindor and Slytherin, Ginny ran up to Harry crying.

"Hey!" he said. "What's wrong?"

"Stupid Malfoy and his stupid arm!" cried Ginny. "He's complained it isn't healed enough for him to play seeker for his team. So their team Captain, Marcus Flint, asked for a switch with another team, and got it. We're now to play Hufflepuff tomorrow."

"Yes; and?" asked Harry.

"You said I could borrow the Firebolt for our game against the Slytherins," she cried. "Now we're not going to be playing them until next April!"

Harry sighed and said, "Well, it's not your fault Malfoy's both an idiot and a wuss. If it means that much to you, you can still use it tomorrow. Either way, you've still got the Nimbus to fall back on."

"Really?" she asked, the hope in her eye almost heartbreaking. "I can still use it?"

Harry firmly nodded and said, "Yes."

With a 'Squeee' sound she jumped forward and grapple-hugged him. "Thank you, Harry!" And happily ran off again.

'What is it with young girls and their jumping at you to hug you?' he thought. 'And, one moment they're bawling their eyes out; and the next they're squealing in excitement. Girls are weird.'

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next day dawned miserably. It was a sullen day with low clouds, threatening rain, and strong wind.

The others didn't want to go and watch the match, but Harry wanted to watch his Firebolt in action in a game. Something he couldn't do if he was riding it himself. Daphne decided to come with him to watch. However, her reasoning was that the cold would give her an excuse to snuggle up to him.

Harry took his Nimbus down to the front steps of the castle and flew them both directly into the tribunes. Once there, Daphne drew a shrunken blanket out of her pocket and unshrunk it before throwing it over both their laps.

They'd also brought with them hot cocoas in sealed insulated mugs with warming charms on them. Of course, both were also wearing their heavy winter cloaks. The ones, of course, with permanent Water Repelling Charms.

Just after the game commenced a light rain began to fall. Harry cast over them a Water Repelling shield and they continued to watch. He, of course, was mostly focussed on young Ginny sitting upon his broom.

So far, the girl hadn't done any spectacular moves to show the broom off. For which Harry was grateful. And Lee Jordan, from where he was announcing the game, hadn't mentioned she was riding a Firebolt. All he'd done was allude to how Harry had loaned her his Nimbus 2000, "Because, Harry Potter is, after all, a true sportsman and gentleman. And _damn_ him for rejoining the Ravenclaw Quidditch team!"

"Mister _Jordan_!" came Professor McGonagall's voice.

"Sorry, Professor!"

The game was going well with the scores seeming to stay relatively equal until Gryffindor managed to gain the upper hand and surge ahead. Gryffindor had the better beaters in Fred and George, while the 'Puffs seemed to have their beaters better co-ordinated with their chasers.

Suddenly, Ginny dove - fast. Diggory, again team Captain and seeker for the 'Puffs this year - dove after her. While looking for the snitch, himself, Harry kept an eye on Ginny. He couldn't see what she seemed to see, and the broom seemed to be sluggish.

Just as it looked like Diggory was about to pass her, Ginny Wronski feinted almost perfectly. With a tighter turning circle than Diggory. With his heftier weight, and a broom not as quick on turns, he _almost_ pulled up in time.

After he managed to get the handle of the broom up, his twigs hit the grass, causing him to bounce. The buck caused him to be thrown off his broom to go sliding along the wet and slippery grass for about thirty feet.

When he stood up - clearly unhurt - His yellow and black robes were dark brown right down his front.

Harry couldn't help himself; he laughed.

Lee Jordan announced, "Well, it looks like badger seeker Diggory decided to go looking for his burrow and couldn't find it. Bad luck there. As Gryffindor's little fire rocket, seeker Ginny Weasley, pulls off a well executed Wronski feint."

Diggory remounted his broom, still covered in mud, and now thoroughly soaked in muddy water. He climbed back up to overwatch to be up near Ginny, but Ginny flew even higher.

The clouds suddenly opened up and the wind became worse. Soon the rain was freezing cold and it felt like ice on the skin.

"We've lost sight of Ginny. Those clouds are coming over really low," called Lee.

Harry frowned and tried to find her in among the clouds. Diggory suddenly dived but Harry was watching the clouds. He saw a movement of black that didn't look right; then more.

Suddenly he realised what that black was. "_Dementors!_" he cried, jumping to his feet.

Snapping his wand out he immediately cast. "_Prongs!_" he shouted as his very bright, almost solid patronus shot forward and heavenward. "_Dementors!_" he shouted again, just as he saw a clearly unbroomed Ginny fall from the clouds. She wasn't moving and looked unconscious. His patronus charged up into the sky.

Thinking fast, he grabbed his Nimbus, mounted it, and took off straight off the front row of tribune seats. About a dozen other patronuses also took off into the sky after the foul beasts, as he urged the broom forward faster and faster.

He saw the twins work in tandem and also charge towards the area directly underneath Ginny as she fell.

Like a paired precision flying team the twins turned directly under her, heading straight down, preparing to catch her as she fell past them. Harry, higher than they were, dived over top and accelerated. The twins both managed to snag her by her robes, slowing her down.

But, she'd have still hit the ground too fast for safety if Harry hadn't come down between them and behind her. He pulled the handle of his broom up between her legs, using the braking charms of the broom to slow all four of them down.

It was just in time, too. With only as much force as jumping off a table, all four hit the ground and sprawled across the grass.

Harry immediately took off back up into the sky to both find the Firebolt and make sure the dementors were banished.

Up high, he saw patronuses chase the last of the foul beasts off and saw the broom as the wind was pushing it towards the Forbidden Forest. Haring off after it, he managed to snag it before it ended up entangled in the branches of the whomping willow. And returned with it to the pitch.

On the way back he switched from his Nimbus to the Firebolt to keep up the illusion Ginny was riding the Nimbus.

Coming in to land he saw that Ginny was sitting up on the grass and was being almost forced to eat chocolate by Remus - Professor Lupin. Professor McGonagall was off to one side with Dumbledore berating him about the beasts.

"How is she?" asked Harry, once he landed in the middle of the pitch.

"She's suffering from over exposure to the dementors, but she's going to be fine," said Remus.

"Thanks for the assist, by the way," said one of the twins.

"That makes the second time you've assisted in saving our sister's life," said the other.

"You're making a habit of it," said the first.

Harry shrugged and said, "I caught just a couple of glimpses of black cloaks and knew what it had to be."

"The bastards used the cloud cover to come in close," said Alicia, who had walked closer. "Thank Merlin you acted when you did."

"It was the precision flying of the twins that caught her," said Harry. "I was only able to slow their decent to a point where the landing wouldn't have seen people in hospital, or worse."

During Ginny's over-exposure and subsequent fall, Diggory had managed to see and snag the snitch before the twins and Harry even got Ginny back on terra firma. So, the 'Puffs won. However, it was only by ninety points as the Gryff's were in front by sixty points at the time of the catch.

Oliver Wood was pleading with Madam Hooch to call the game a bust due to the dementors but she said, "Mister Diggory caught the snitch before the game could be called. As such, his catch was valid and ended the game at that point. The Hufflepuff win will stand."

"But, Madam Hooch! Our seeker was already out by then, and it was a life and death situation!" the boy pleaded.

"It stands, Mister Wood," said the woman, firmly.

Taking the twins aside, Harry quietly said, "I don't think anyone has realised Ginny was riding the Firebolt today. She hid it's capabilities quite well. So, it looks like the plan for her to ambush the Slytherins with it will now be in the last game of the school year. She can borrow it again to train as that game approaches."

Both twins grinned and said, "Thanks Harrikins."

"We'll let her know," said one.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Even though the dementors entered the grounds of Hogwarts, when they were supposed to remain outside of the boundaries, the Minister _still_ would not pull them away and send them back to Azkaban. He argued that they must have had some idea Pettigrew had entered the grounds and were only doing their job by going in after him.

Harry, for one, had had enough. He decided to write his own article and contacted Monty Wordsworth to 'polish' it before publishing it in the Prophet under Monty's by-line.

_* # *_

_DEMENTORS ATTACK YOUNG HOGWARTS STUDENT_

_By Monty Wordsworth_

_Yesterday, during a nail-biting, edge-of-your-seat Quidditch game between Gryffindor and Hufflepuff, Gryffindor's young rising-star seeker, Miss Ginevra 'Ginny' Weasley (12), was attacked in the skies over the pitch by what reports say was well over two dozen of the Ministry's dementors. The young pre-teen was quite high and was gently moving through the sky on a borrowed broom from Harry Potter (The-Boy-Who-Lived) when the dementors, using the low cloud cover to hide their presence, attacked Miss Weasley._

_The attack rendered Miss Weasley unconscious causing her to fall from her broom hundreds of feet in the air. If not for the alarm raised by a spectator in the stands around the pitch, who caught glimpses of the dementors within the clouds and caused all eyes to turn to the heavens, the falling body of Miss Weasley may have been discovered too late. The fall would surely have killed the young pureblood girl, only daughter of Arthur and Molly Weasley._

_In a dramatic and incredible feat of superb formation flying, Gryffindor's twin beaters, and older twin brothers to Miss Weasley, Fred and George Weasley (15), were able to manoeuvre themselves under the plummeting body of their young seeker and sister and catch her. A third broom rider, a member of the audience who had brought his broom with him into the stands, assisted in safely returning the young girl safely to the ground._

_Questions must be asked of the Minister, who admitted in his own words only a few short weeks ago he was personally responsible for sending the dementors to Hogwarts, why the foul beasts were able to get into a position well inside the grounds to attack the young Miss Weasley. How can they be there to protect the students from an unconfirmed threat, when they have now become a threat themselves?_

_Will it take the dementors killing a pureblood scion, of which there are many at Hogwarts today, for the Minister to realise the so-called protection he has personally sent to Hogwarts are a bigger threat than the original possible threat they were sent to protect against?_

_If the unthinkable does happen, will the Minister be charged with murder; his weapon of choice being a dementor?_

_* # *_

"Hey, Potter!" said Malfoy, from where he was wearing a very poorly applied bandage and sling on his arm. "How does it feel not to have your heroics published, for once?"

"Well, considering I wrote the article with Mister Wordsworth," he replied, "and had to make him promise to keep my name out of it other than that I loaned Miss Weasley the broom, pretty bloody good, actually."

The blonde boy looked back in surprise before he just scowled in response.

"I'm _glad_ to see the twins receive the recognition they deserved for their incredible flying in catching their sister," he continued.

The dementors were pulled from the school by lunch of the day the article was printed. The staff and students of Hogwarts, and the residents of Hogsmeade, breathed a collective sigh of relief.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Near the English town of Folkestone, a short, balding, buck-toothed, pudgy man wearing an old twill weave brown suit with a stolen heavy coat on over the top was looking down from his vantage point at the English end of the soon-to-be-opened Channel Tunnel - or, 'Chunnel', as the local muggles had been calling it. Pettigrew was looking for a way across.

He had recently been in Folkestone town centre, looking for a way to board a muggle vessel to take him across to the continent, where his dark mark was urging him onwards towards the direction of his Master. It had already taken him many, many weeks just to reach that point.

In Folkestone he saw a huge display concerning a tunnel the muggles were building under the English Channel. Apparently the two tunnel ends had been connected since December 1990 and work switched from tunnelling to building the twin rail lines and services to support the tunnel.

That meant he might have found a way to slip out of Britain across to the Continent and hoped it slipped under the magical detection net that was over the two major islands of Magical Britain. The cut-away diorama the muggles used in their display of the works showed that the tunnel dropped as low as 250 feet below sea level. He just hoped it was deep enough at the ward line to allow him passage under it. And, therefore, pass unnoticed.

While the tunnel was not open yet, it was due to open in about six months. And he definitely wanted to be well clear before those muggle trains went roaring through it at what the diorama indicated were incredible speeds.

He was also banking on the tunnel being so new that Britain's DMLE and France's DPM (Département de la Police Magiques) were either unaware of it, or thought it insignificant in their respective coastwatch programmes; where they watched for illegal international portkeys, illegal international apparitions, those attempting the crossing on brooms or magic carpets, and scanned sea-going vessels. As his magical signature was now on 'file' with the Ministry and they would be monitoring for it, he knew that if he attempted any of those, he would be caught by the net, for sure.

Carefully, he made his way down to the construction site. The tunnel represented his only chance to cross without being caught and he was prepared to take his time to research his course of action and plan to get through.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Three weeks after the Gryffindor Hufflepuff match and it was Ravenclaw's shot at the 'Puffs. Poor Hufflepuff had to play two of their three games with only three weeks separating them due to Malfoy's stupidity. However, Diggory seemed quite enthused by it after their win against the Gryff's.

The weather was again miserable, but this time it was more drizzly rain than horrid wind and low scudding clouds. It was the sort of rain that managed to get underneath your wet weather gear and soak you through in a matter of moments

Simon Martin gave his speech to the team and every one was hyped up waiting to get out there and execute their strategy.

Harry, said, "If you're going to execute the plan, do it early and do it fast. I don't want to be out in this weather any longer than I have to. As soon as I see even a glint of gold, that snitch is in my hand. It the score at the end is 150 to zero in our favour, so be it."

That revved the team up even further.

When they were called out by Lee Jordan, again acting as announcer, Harry was like a bull out of a gate. He pulled a quick loop and landed in the centre of the pitch.

He was surprised to see Professor Snape refereeing the game.

Not one to mince words, Snape was quick to release the bludgers and the snitch. Harry took a running start, leapt onto his broom and surged into the sky.

Jordan's voice rang out, "And look at the Raven _climb_, ladies and gentlemen! For those unaware, Harry Potter rides one of the new Firebolts! His own is serial number seven the player number of the seeker and reportedly the best number magically.

"The broom is reported to reach speeds in excess of one hundred and fifty miles per hour and the tightest turning circle of any broom on the market. Let's see what he makes of it, today."

Harry scanned the skies and kept a close watch on the goings on below. Diggory was off a little ways doing the same.

Dropping down closer to the play, Harry spotted the Hufflepuff chasers gain control of the quaffle and make a drive towards the Ravenclaw goals.

'Spoiling time,' thought Harry. He put on a boost of acceleration to get above the tight formation of Hufflepuff chasers and dove straight down and through them before pulling a high g-force swoop bring the broom around one eighty degrees and driving straight back up through them.

The 'Puff chasers were completely thrown off their game and Ravenclaw regained control of the red leather ball.

From his drive back up Harry kept the climb going before looping over to hang upside down and executing a half barrel roll to regain his upright seat. He was instantly scanning the skies again.

Diggory came over and said, "Be careful, Potter! You nearly de-seated one of my chasers."

"I didn't connect with them, Mister Diggory," retorted Harry, still scanning the skies. "I just frightened them enough to scatter their formation."

As soon as he finished speaking, he put on his face an expression of surprise and glee to make it look like he'd spotted the snitch. Then he dove straight towards one of the tribunes behind Diggory. As he aimed to do, Diggory took off in hot pursuit. At the wall of the tribune, Harry executed a corkscrew turn that had him gripping the broom with everything he had before he was flying parallel to the wall. The tightness of the turn saw Diggory strike the wall firmly enough to nearly unseat himself as he fought to bring his own broom around.

Harry suddenly jerked the handle to aim his broom for low in the middle of the pitch before coming up through the middle of the Hufflepuff formation again. Once more, he sent them scattering.

The beaters tried to target him but Harry simply outflew the bludgers. Sometimes he would fly slow enough to keep the iron balls following him until he'd accelerate at the last moment and fly back through the Hufflepuff chasers. This would cause the bludgers to attack the chasers as the closest players nearby.

Reefing the broom around he headed back for the side of the pitch before racing along its edge at goal height. Lining up on the Hufflepuff keeper he forced the boy out of position just as Ravenclaw was lining up its shot from Chang Cho.

But Harry wanted to see how fast the broom could go within the confines of the pitch, so he kept pouring the power on. After two quick circuits of the pitch he aimed the broom straight for the sky and decelerated back down to a more manageable speed to search for the snitch.

He had just started scanning the area again when a clear patch of sky moved over the pitch and allowed the sun to shine down. He instantly saw the gold glint down near the bottom of the Ravenclaw goals and had it in his hand less than a minute later, holding it aloft while he gently flew back to the centre of the pitch and Professor Snape.

In the end, the score was 190 to 20 for a stunning Ravenclaw victory.

Harry was very happy when he flew up into the tribune where he knew his love would be sitting. He took her out of her seat and had her ride sidesaddle in front of him as he had his arms past her to grip the broom and steer it. He flew slowly back to the castle and landed just short of the steps.

He had once flown his broom during one of his solo flights directly back to the Ravenclaw tower where he left the window in his dorm slightly ajar. However, he found himself berated by a Prefect who told him, in no uncertain terms, it was forbidden and that he could find himself in detention if he did it again.

He didn't need to be told twice.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After the game they were in the home stretch for Christmas. A quick check of the calendar for most, though not Harry, and they could see that the Express would leave on Sunday, the 19th December, with Christmas being the following Saturday. That meant five full days to shop for gifts. The Eight were excited to soon be heading home.

What Harry thought very odd was that they had a visit to Hogsmeade scheduled the day before they left on the Express. Passing strange. However, they weren't going to look a gift hippogriff in the mouth and decided to do some of their Christmas shopping there instead of in Diagon Alley.

"Maybe that's why we got the visit scheduled, Daphne," mused Harry. "The townsfolk may have requested it for the opportunity to sell some items destined to become Christmas presents."

Daphne shrugged and said, "It's possible."

Accepting the opportunity, the original Seven went into Hogsmeade for the day. Harry and Daphne headed for Dervish and Banges, first - a shop that sold magical instruments and other items - before swinging by Zonko's Joke Shop. Harry made sure to give Gladrags a wide berth. But, Daphne noticed and laughed.

Another stop was at Honeydukes Sweetshop where Harry bought bags for various friends. He'd already been told not to keep buying friends expensive gifts and why, so was determined to limit his purchases.

A fourth stop at Scrivenshaft's for some expensive quills for Cygnus, Isabel and Sirius. Stopping for a moment he thought of the perfect gift for Wendell and Monica, and bought him a magnificent quill set. Muggles might not use quills in practical terms, but they sure made an excellent display piece.

He smiled and also picked up a couple of more practical sets of quills, ink and parchment for the Granger home. He thought that the Granger adults might like to learn how to use quill and parchment for when they had to write within or to the wizarding world. Fountain pen and paper immediately identified them as muggles when they had to contact the wizarding world. Parchment and quill did not. He knew Hermione would be happy to teach them.

He also noticed some example parchment with various headers similar to official muggle business documents and formal letters.

Approaching the older proprietor, he asked, "Mister Scrivenshaft, Sir?

"Yes, young man?" the old man asked before taking a better look at Harry. "You're Harry Potter, aren't you?"

"Yes, Sir," said Harry. "I've noticed the parchment with the family and business letter-headings. I've not seen this before in the magical world. Is it something new?"

"It is, Mister Potter," replied the old man, happily. "I have a clerk who is muggleborn. He showed me examples of what the muggles do and suggested it might form a new line of products."

"I, for one, think it's a wonderful idea, Sir,"

He ordered some parchment to be delivered to him by owl mail during the next couple of days with the Potter Crest as a header embossed on parchment. He also ordered some for Greengrass, Black and Dagworth-Granger.

He knew Wendell would take to it easily, but hoped Cygnus and Sirius could also see the benefit. He thought their four families could be 'trendsetters'.

He also asked for envelopes with his family crest embossed in the centre of the flap. While he had the ring to press on the wax seal, having the crest embossed on the flap meant it would identify the sender was a member of the House, if not the Head.

When he explained what he wanted, the proprietor thought it was wonderful idea and added it to his order with the promise he would organise it first thing on the Monday morning.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	55. Harry v Ginny

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Five – Harry v Ginny**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Christmas was as wonderful as Harry had come to expect them to be in the Greengrass household. He was congratulated on his gifts as they represented something new, thoughtful and properly valued.

While Cygnus was, at first, unsure of the embossed letterheads, it was Wendell who convinced him of the value they represented. He was full of excitement in showing both Cygnus and Sirius the utility of letterheading and how it made their letters seem more official.

Ducking back home to Dagworth-Granger Manor he brought forth examples of his own business letters and what he'd received from other businesses. He also showed both men how to use them for themselves.

Isabel loved them. It meant she could also send out official invitations for functions and the like and drastically cut down on her writing.

Within a year, every important House was using them. Within eighteen months so was the Ministry and Wizengamot. Within the same eighteen months even Hogwarts was using them. The first letters sent using them were to the students for the 1995-96 year. And Mister Scrivenshaft, who had magically patented the concept, was quickly becoming wealthy from the sheer amount of embossed parchment he was selling.

Harry didn't mind, either. As a ten percent stock holder he was raking in the money, too.

Wendell and Monica also loved the display quill set of which Harry gifted them. He'd already spoken with Hermione about teaching them how to write with quill and ink on parchment.

Monica thought it was 'quaint' but understood how it made her written correspondence to the magical world more 'acceptable'. And Isabel also offered to teach how to write formal wizarding correspondence as Monica, though a muggle, was seen as the acting Dowager Lady of the House.

However, Monica also quickly learned that writing done with a fountain pen was indistinguishable from writing done with an expensive quill; and switched to that when she wasn't specifically practicing writing with a quill. Isabel later admitted to her she did the same and that she knew other Ladies of Manors also adopted the fountain pen for the same purpose.

Harry wasn't stupid. When he heard, he went out and bought expensive fountain pens for himself and his friends that most closely mimicked a quill. On returning to school they began to use fountain pens whenever they were writing their assignments in private. What the Professors didn't know, wouldn't offend them; especially Professor Snape or Dumbledore. It also sped up the process of writing the assignments out, quite significantly; giving them more free time to dedicate to other pursuits.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Over at the construction site near Folkestone, Pettigrew made his move. Christmas Day was the one day of the year the construction sites on both sides were vacated. Only a pair of security guards manned the sites at each end to keep away sightseers who came too close. He headed in to the construction site at 1.00am, when the last shift were pulled out and were away.

In his animagus form he scurried through the construction site and into the tunnel. He had to cross through twenty three and a half miles, then evacuate the construction site at the other end, before he could consider the obstacle passed. As soon as he was far enough into the tunnel to be out of sight, he switched back to human form.

Knowing he wasn't in the best of health, he kept his pace down to a brisk walk. It would not do to trip over a railway tie, sleeper or building debris and twist an ankle - or, worse, break a leg. Steady but continuous forward movement would do it.

He estimated that, if he kept his pace to about two and a half to three miles an hour - stopping for the occasional short rest - it would take him about ten to thirteen hours to reach the other end of the tunnel. Then he would rest and sleep and wait for dark again before he made his way through the French construction site before the first shift after Christmas arrived just before midnight. His long experience walking from the north-east coast near Aberdeen to the south-east coast had taught him it was a pace he could manage, so long as he didn't continually have to dodge auror search parties.

"I'm coming, Master," he murmured, strengthening his resolve.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As they had returned to London five days before Christmas, it also meant they'd be returning to Hogwarts earlier. So, on the 2nd January, the group were back on Platform 9 ¾ and boarding the Express.

Of course, most of the talking was about what people received for Christmas, or gave others. A few had news of short holidays celebrating Christmas abroad.

But, before long, they were back in the castle, and returned to their studies the next day - the Monday.

On Monday afternoon they found Hagrid, sobbing, leaving the castle.

"Hagrid?" asked Hermione as the group hurried out of the castle after the grounds keeper. "What's wrong?"

The big man spun about and saw Harry and the Seven standing there, together. With dropping shoulders and tears in his eyes he said, "They're going to kill Buckbeak."

Harry didn't know who Buckbeak was but it seemed Hermione and Neville did. "The Hippogriff?" asked Hermione. "Why?"

"Because he hurt young Mister Malfoy," sobbed Hagrid. "Perfesser Dumbledore - grea' man - he's tryin' ter get 'im a reprieve. But, it's the Ministry, yer see. Lord Malfoy wants Buckbeak killed and there's a hearin' comin' up!"

"When is this supposed to happen?" asked Daphne.

"Not sure," replied Hagrid, blowing his nose and wiping his eyes with a small tablecloth. "Prob'ly in a coup'la weeks. Paperwork, and all."

The group let him head on his way. "I hope he's alright by this afternoon," said a worried Neville. "We've got Magical Creatures then."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Studies picked up pace. They were working hard but they were all thankful they were still working ahead of the rest of their year mates. Effort was also made in helping Luna with drawing in magic for her own spell practicing.

Thankfully, she was already a decent enough Occlumens, but she wouldn't say why. All they knew was it was something to do with her father. They knew enough not to push, as they knew not to push Hermione and Neville about how they were maintaining their course load.

Hermione's had eased, though, almost immediately after they had returned. Her parents and the Greengrasses convinced her to drop Divination; which she reluctantly did.

On the second Saturday after their return, Harry had his second game of Quidditch for the year. This time, it was against Slytherin. He knew it was going to be a hard game as he'd been told all the horror stories about how badly the Snakes cheated.

Though, he knew, experiencing it was an entirely different matter.

The Snakes now knew Harry rode a Firebolt, and that Malfoy was no competition against him. As the game hinged on the performance of the seeker, the team beaters, Crabbe and Goyle - Malfoy's personal twin bookends - targeted him immediately; as did Flint and Malfoy.

For most of the game, Harry spent dodging and weaving away from bludgers, beaters bats, and sheer muscling from Flint. Malfoy held back and spent the time laughing at Harry until Flint yelled at him to find the snitch.

Because the beaters were focussing on Harry with the bludgers and themselves, the Slytherin chasers were using their superior body mass to muscle Ravenclaw's chasers. However, with Harry effectively keeping the beaters out of the game by staying well away from the Ravenclaw chasers, the score was steadily rising for the Eagles.

At two of the somewhat rare times the Slytherin chasers had control of the Quaffle, Harry used them to separate himself of the Slytherin beaters by diving and climbing through their formations. It was similar to how basketballers position themselves to knock a player's 'tag' off the person with the ball. He even managed to make Goyle crash into, and injure in the process, one of the Slytherin chasers.

During the time out due to injury, Martin instructed Harry to keep the beaters and Malfoy away from their chasers, and that it was about time he started using the higher speeds and manoeuvrability of the broom.

So, returning to the air, Harry used the broom to draw the beaters to him, and then accelerated away. He ducked, weaved, dove and climbed. He caused both Crabbe and Goyle to bounce off the walls of the tribunes and, once even, had them run into each other.

Finally, he saw it. But Malfoy was closer and saw it at the same time. The race for the snitch was on. And Harry had both bludgers chasing after him.

Luckily, the snitch zigged and Malfoy misjudged and zagged. By the time he was back on it, Harry was over the top of the blonde ponce and pounced. Further luck was on Harry's side as Malfoy reached out and wrenched _hard_ on one of Harry's footpegs. They were both only a few feet off the ground when it happened. Unluckily for Harry, his arm was at full extension when Malfoy pulled his cheating stunt.

Just as his fingers grasped the snitch firmly within his fist, he was sent flying across the ground without his broom. He hit the ground, hard, and was sent sliding and bouncing across the ground.

He had just managed to come to a stop when he was, in turn, slammed into by Malfoy and both brooms.

When Malfoy wrenched on Harry's footpeg - thereby unseating him - Harry's broom's automatic systems worked to bring the broom to a complete stop. It spun about due to the grasp on one footpeg and smashed across Malfoy's face, breaking the boy's nose and knocking teeth loose or breaking them off completely.

In pain and while trying to stop, Malfoy lost his own grip on his broom and, tangled with both brooms, bounced once off the ground before smacking hard into Harry.

Both boys woke later in the infirmary.

Harry suffered the biggest injuries with two broken ribs, an arm broken in two places, a broken shoulder, and a concussion.

But Malfoy actually came off worse with a broken nose, three broken teeth, a broken wrist and strained shoulder. The broken teeth required the remains to be removed and the teeth regrown. A painful process.

When he woke up Daphne, who'd been crying, spent one second yelling at him for not being careful enough, another crying because he was so injured, a third yelling at Malfoy for cheating and a fourth wanting to hug him senseless without further damaging him.

Harry didn't even have a chance to say a word back. He just made soothing sounds. However, he was soon rescued by Madam Pomfrey, who came along and shoo'ed his upset betrothed out the doors.

Harry was out of the infirmary the next morning, but Malfoy had another day under Madam Pomfrey's care and in pain for most of it. Harry felt the other boy deserved that and even more. What he had done could have killed him.

It was also hours before he found out Ravenclaw had slaughtered the Snakes and pretty much already secured the Quidditch Cup; and the season was officially only half way through. Their only threat now was the Gryffindors, who they played on the 19th of March, in nine weeks. If they beat the Lions, Ravenclaw wins, and the final game of Gryffindor and Slytherin on the 16th of April will only be for second place.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once free of the infirmary before breakfast the next day, Harry joined the others at the Slytherin table. Without Malfoy there to spend most of the meal sneering at them and making snide comments, it was actually quite pleasant. And, Crabbe and Goyle, while not the brightest candles in the chandelier, were actually pleasant to talk to away from Malfoy. Both boys were actually normally quite shy.

"Can we spend today researching the law regarding magical creatures harming witches and wizards?" asked Hermione during the table chit chat.

Looking in surprise at the girl, Harry asked, "You want to try and save Buckbeak?"

"Yes," she replied. "I don't think it's right for such a beautiful animal to be killed just because Malfoy was an idiot."

"You do realise that as an animal, magical or not, the Hippogriff has no rights?" asked Daphne.

"You're more than welcome to try, Hermione," said Harry. "But, I'm sorry; the creature hurt a student. The fault lies entirely with Hagrid bringing a very dangerous animal to his first class. And Third Years, at that.

"No, a hippogriff is something for Fifth Years and above; not Third Years," said Harry. "I just hope Hagrid has learned a very valuable, though painful, lesson from this incident."

"Well, I'm going to _try_," huffed Hermione.

Harry nodded and said, "And I wish you luck. But Daphne and I have etiquette club, this afternoon. And, you know how important that is to the two of us."

Hermione blushed and said, "Sorry. I forgot."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Three weeks later Ravenclaw played Gryffindor in Quidditch. All through the three weeks in the lead up to the game, Harry ensured Ginny had the Nimbus for training. However, he could see the look she tried hard to disguise in her eyes that she did not fully believe he would loan her the broom for the game.

On the morning of the game he waited outside the portrait of the Fat Lady. As soon as he saw her step out, he was standing there smiling, with the Nimbus in his hand.

She looked back at him a little warily as he stepped forward and offered her the broom. He said, "A promise is a promise."

When she accepted it with tears forming in her eyes, she said, "I know you're a man of honour, Harry. But, I - confess to doubting you would still loan me this wonderful broom when we played you."

"Have more faith in me, next time; alright?" he said.

She nodded as a single tear flowed down her cheek; until, suddenly, she threw herself at him, embracing him on a tight hug. Another grapple-hug.

"Thank you!" she cried.

"Errff - girl!" he cried back. "Are you trying to bust me up so I can't play?"

Releasing him and stepping back, she giggle-sniffled, "I think you'd still play, even with busted ribs."

Giving a shrug, with a smile he replied, "Yeah, I probably would."

That caused the small group of Gryff's who were standing around to chuckle. The only one who wasn't was her slightly older brother, Ron, who just stood there glaring.

With a jaunty wave Harry walked off and said over his shoulder, "Even though I loaned you a broom, I'm _still_ going to kick your butt on the pitch!"

"In your dreams, Potter!" she called back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The game that afternoon was one for the legends of the school.

It was also learned from Daphne, who had heard Malfoy talking about it with Flint in the Slytherin common room that Malfoy, Flint, Crabbe and Goyle were planning on sabotaging Harry while he was flying during the game. With the help of the others, their plan was squashed within moments of the attempt.

The four boys had all drawn their wands and were trying to cast light-free hexes and jinxes Harry's way. However, as soon as their wands came up, the others all disarmed them.

In the game, everything started off fine. The twins even joshed good-naturedly with him, giving him fair warning they were going to be playing spoilers against him if they thought he got a whiff of the snitch.

Harry was on the Firebolt, which gave him far better handling and manoeuvrability. But, Ginny was both smaller and lighter on the Nimbus 2000. They were even more closely matched than Harry dreamed. And Ginny knew how to defeat the advantages Harry had with a faster and more manoeuvrable broom from playing with her brothers on their better brooms in their backyard Quidditch pitch.

The snitch must have also been kicked up a notch in it's movements as it darted all over the pitch.

Harry would get into a good position to grab it when it'd change direction. He'd make the turn, but Ginny would use him by ricocheting off him to make the turn herself, while also pushing Harry out of line. It also wasn't cheating, either, as she was not intending to harm him and was focussing on the snitch.

Then Harry would have to use the better qualities of his broom to get back in over the top of her and regain the better line.

Neither could spare the time to watch the other players battle it out. If Harry had even taken the time to view the scoreboard he might have even panicked. The Lions of Gryffindor chasers and beaters were all over the Eagles of Ravenclaw. And the Lions were streets ahead in points.

However, after the longest game Harry had participated in since he'd started playing, he was eventually able to find a defence against Ginny using him like a pool table cushion and caught the snitch. Ravenclaw won - 290 to 270. A victory, yes; but, the Cup was won based on the number of total points across all four games a team secured. And Gryffindor was still in with a good chance.

When it was finished, Wood was off to one side crying on Spinnet's shoulder about how unfair the world was. Martin was dancing around in happiness one moment, then berating Harry for loaning Ginny his Nimbus the next. Everyone else were heartily congratulating each other for a very well fought match. And both seekers were commended for their flying.

Lee Jordan had even coined a name for the ricochet manoeuvre Ginny seemed to have perfected - it became known as the 'Weasley Bounce'. It seemed no one had ever used it before that anyone could recall as, until the Firebolt, brooms had not been so poorly matched.

The Cup would come down to the final game of the season, after all. The game in mid-march of Slytherin against Hufflepuff would not be a spoiler. However, if Gryffindor slaughtered Slytherin in April with enough points they could win the Cup, even though Ravenclaw won all three of their games.

Harry's Firebolt had received some minor damage by Malfoy during the Ravenclaw against Slytherin game, and he desperately wanted to send it back to the factory to be properly repaired with damaged twigs and ever-so-slightly bent footpegs replaced. However, he'd made a promise to Ginny, so he'd hang on to it until after the Gryffindor Slytherin game in mid April.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the week, Neville and Hermione heard from Hagrid that Buckbeak's hearing was scheduled for the Friday. Dumbledore had already promised Hagrid he would be allowed to attend the hearing.

Hermione was almost frantic in her search for any law, or part of a law, that would help to save Buckbeak from his fate. But, she'd had no luck right up until the hearing.

She had even approached Remus to seek help. But, Harry's honourary uncle didn't have the heart to tell her there was no chance of saving the creature.

It was finding Hagrid sobbing his heart out on the Saturday afternoon after they were returning from a Hogsmeade weekend that let them know of Buckbeak's decided fate. Weirdly, however, he wasn't to be executed until June.

Even though sentence had been passed, Hermione was still trying to find a way to save the beast when they returned to 'their' room in the Come and Go Room.

"Hermione," said Neville. "I'm sorry, but it's done. Even if you find something now it will do no good There are no appeals available in these kinds of cases."

Hermione burst into tears. Susan and Hannah moved to comfort her.

Harry mentally sighed and thought to himself, 'I guess _I'll_ just have to save the creature, then.'

He and Neville looked at each other. Neville adopted a look of pleading while Harry, almost imperceptibly, nodded once. Neville looked relieved and nodded back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The Eight soldiered on with the teens all now focussing on their studies and training. They'd even reached the point where some, including Harry, were up to three target dummies.

The dummies were now firing more and more powerful Curses and Charms as the teens dodged, danced and shielded. Sometimes, they'd have four target dummies with a wider area of battle and two teens would be training simultaneously as a team.

Harry was still a force to be reckoned with and definitely not taken lightly. His speed was incredible. But, Luna was developing a style all her own. While nowhere near as fast, she'd developed patterns and spellchains that were brilliant, and sometimes awe-inspiring.

She'd managed to chain a set of spells that included the Water Jet Charm, Freezing Charm and Bludgeoning Hex. With a strong enough Freezing Charm the damage from the follow up bludgeoner was - dramatic. The parts of the target that were hit would shatter. While the target was often either unable to move quickly, or frozen to the spot.

Based on witnessing that, Harry dedicated quite a bit of time into developing his own custom set of spellchains; ones that would do damage to a single target, or many. The secret, as Professor Flitwick told him, was to merge the last movement of the wand movement of a spell into the first of the next one.

With his ability of perfect recall, Harry was almost instantly able to see all the Curses and Charms he'd already learned that had the same first wand movement as the last of the previous, or was in an easy position to lift into the next. One example was a slash wand movement that started high right and finished low left, which would then feed into the next spell which started from the low left and ended back at the ready point at hip height on the right.

Harry also noticed how he was often casting through his own Shielding Charm with a curse, yet the Shielding Charm in no way affected his curse. He took the matter to Professor Flitwick.

"Ah!" said the Professor. "I was wondering when you'd notice that. It means your spell casting is getting that quick that the two overlap."

"Thank you, but why does it happen?" asked Harry.

"It has to do with how the Shielding Charm is unidirectional," replied the Professor. "It's designed to protect from an arc about one hundred and twenty degrees wide spread evenly from the central direction in which you cast.

"For anything else, the shield only - diminishes - the curse. However, if you cast both shield and curse, it isn't affected at all. That's because the magical signature of both match. You'll learn more about this effect, and why it happens, in Arithmancy after your OWLs and if you undertake a Mastery in Charms. That is, of course, if you continue the subject into your NEWTs."

Harry frowned and thought for a bit. The little professor, knowing a Ravenclaw puzzling things out when he saw it, waited. Harry asked, "What happens when the shield and the curse are conjured by the same person, but with different wands?"

Surprised, and not a little shocked at the question, the professor replied, "I do not know." He then thought a bit and said, "It actually creates an interesting situation. I've not heard of a wizard or witch who would set a Shielding Charm with one wand while casting - say - a Bludgeoning Curse with the other through the shield.

"There are laws in place that restrict a witch or wizard to only one wand. However, it does not mean that, in a life and death battle, one would not have two on their person; irrespective of what the law says." He thought a bit more and said, "Logic dictates that, if the wands were identical, then there should not be much of a difficulty. However, if the wands differed quite a bit, then I have no idea what the effect would be."

Harry stood thinking a bit more and mused, "It sounds like you're talking about resonance."

"Pardon, Mister Potter?" asked the professor.

"Resonance, Professor," said Harry. "All energy - including light and sound - travel in waves. I'll get you a muggle physics book that explains it in detail. But, suffice it to say, it also makes sense to me that magical energy in the form of spells would do the same.

"Because the wand is a focussing tool for the casting of spells, it would have an impact on the frequency of the waves that form the magical energy of the spell. Using two quite different foci in two different wands, must then affect the frequency of the cast. However, when cast through near identical wands - and, therefore, near identical foci - the frequency would also be near identical.

"Resonance would be the point where the frequency is close enough for the energy wave for both the shield and the curse to be in synchronicity or phase, and would allow the curse to pass through the shield unimpeded."

The Professor looked back at Harry in stunned surprise bordering on shock. "Actually, Mister Potter," said the professor, after a few moments. "While the terms you used are different to what is used in the magical world, _that_ is almost exactly the answer for a Masters level question in charms."

Harry smiled back and said, "Then it appears, Professor, I'm on the right path. Now all I have to do is test my theory."

"And, I'm afraid, that's going to require a second wand that's as much in tune to your magic as your existing wand," said the professor. "And you're not allowed to own two wands under current wizarding law, Mister Potter."

Harry smirked back and said, "That's not actually true, Professor. The law states I'm not allowed to _carry_ two wands. It says nothing about _owning_ two.

"However, this school currently hosts two sets of identical twins; with one set being so in tune with each other they seem to be of one mind. I can always ask them to help. It would also not surprise me if the Weasley twins owned identical wands."

Surprised yet again, the diminutive professor said with a little awe, "That - is actually an incredible idea. I wonder just how close their wands actually do match."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After he approached the Seven and sought permission to do so, Harry approached the twins and took them aside for a private discussion.

"Boys," said Harry, "What do you know of the Come and Go Room?"

The twins glanced, confused, at each other before one asked, "The what and what room?"

"Obviously nothing," said Harry with a smirk. "I need your help with something and I need to show the two of you a - special - room within the castle to get that help."

"What sort of 'special' room..."

"Harrikins?"

"T'would be best if I just showed you," he replied, before he started to walk away. "Come with me, please."

Harry led them up to the seventh floor corridor and gestured at the door.

"We don't remember there..."

"... being a door here."

Smirking, Harry led the twins inside to be met by the Seven. A new couch also appeared around the table as the extra seating was needed.

Both stood just inside the door looking around in shock. Harry had to hustle them forward a little to close the door.

"What is this place?" asked one.

"The house elves call it the Come and Go Room," replied Harry. "It will configure itself to the wishes of whoever needs it."

He walked towards the sitting cum studying area and gestured to the new couch. "Come take a seat, boys."

The twins, still looking around, came over and sat on the couch.

Before they could formulate what they wanted to say or ask, Harry said, "You're obviously full of questions; ask away." And sat back.

Over the course of over an hour, Harry and the Seven answered every question they could. Some, of course, they couldn't as they didn't have the answers, themselves. However, there were very few that fit in the last category. And no one was giving up Harry's secret of his eidetic memory. But that was unrelated to the Room, so wasn't even asked.

At the end of the question and answer session, one twin turned to the other and asked, "_Why_ did we never find this room, brother of mine?"

"We never knew of its existence, is why."

"And yet we found all the tunnels."

"No, we found the _Map_ which showed the tunnels."

"Too true"

"Of course."

"Map?" asked Daphne.

"Ah!" said one twin.

"The Marauder's Map"

"its how we can find anyone..."

"... we're looking for..."

"... within the castle," they said together.

One of them drew the Map from within his robes and laid it on the table before them all. The other then drew his wand and held the tip against the middle of the Map, and said, "We solemnly swear we're up to no good!"

Lines began to trace across the page in all directions similar to the inheritance test ritual.

When it was finished, one of the twins said, "We humbly present the Marauder's Map..."

"... made by our heroes, the Marauders..."

"Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail."

Sitting forward suddenly, Harry asked, "Prongs, Padfoot, Moony and Wormtail?"

"The same," the twins nodded and said together.

"Then, it may interest you to know, I'm the son of Prongs," said Harry. He then whipped out his wand and cast his patronus. "That's what he looked like," he said, gesturing at the form."

The twins looked between Harry and his patronus in shock. A quick glance at each other and they were both off the couch and kneeling on the floor. "We're not worthy!" they cried.

"Oh, do get up," said Hannah.

The two boys rose and retook their seats. "You would not happen to know..."

"Who the others are, do you?"

"Yes," said Harry. "However, they clearly used their Marauder names on the map for a reason. I will not break their trust to reveal them to you. "Sorry."

The two boys glanced at each other again before one said, "Then, for you sharing your knowledge of this room with us..."

"... because it's bloody brilliant for you to share it with us..."

"... And, because this Map is obviously a family heirloom..."

"We solemnly return it to you."

And both boys then slid the Map in Harry's direction. With a quick demonstration of how the map worked, Harry could see just how useful a tool it actually was.

"And, by all means, you're welcome to come here and use the room," said Daphne. "If there's no one here, when you walk back and forth in the corridor outside, just think of this room and that you want to use the room Harry and his friends use. Then the door will appear for you to be able to enter. Just, please, keep it a secret."

"You have our word, Miss Greengrass," said one.

"The word of two of the new Marauders," said the other.

"Thank you to you both," said Harry. "However, I've not just brought you up here to show you this marvellous Room. I've also a favour to ask of you both."

"Oh? Pray tell..."

"... Harrikins."

"Firstly," Harry began, "I know you are very near identical physically, intellectually and emotionally. But, do you know how close you are magically?"

"Close enough that we..."

"... have identical wands."

"And that almost answers my second question," said Harry before asked, "Just how identical are your wands?"

"Mister Ollivander made them special for us," said one.

"When we tested out in his store..."

"... to both have the best results with the same wand..."

"... he then made us two new wands..."

"... from the exact same block of wood..."

"... and tail hair off the same unicorn."

"Eleven inches long - made of elm - with a unicorn hair core," they said together and whipped them out.

"Wow! That must have cost a bit of gold," said Susan.

"Nope," said one.

"Mister Ollivander gave them to us for free..."

"... as long as we keep him informed of anything

"... that seems funny happening to them."

"And it's perfect!" exclaimed Harry, leaning forward. "Now, I've got something I want you two to help me with; and I'm willing to pay you for it."

The two boys glanced at each other and grinned before leaning forward.

"Here's what I'm looking to do," said Harry, as he began to explain why he specifically wanted them for his experiment on spell resonance.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	56. Seed Money

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Six - Seed Money**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After crossing the channel via the almost completed Channel Tunnel, Pettigrew had made good time through France, skirted south of Switzerland, and struck south-east through Italy moving down its length. However, while he could speak a smattering of French, he could speak no Italian; so, he was unable to make himself understood by the local muggles.

Now being forced to steal what food he needed to eat, he'd often use his animagus form to sneak into places, and drag away foodstuffs. Then he'd shift back into human form to eat a hearty meal while on the road.

He'd also managed to hop on a few trucks and hide onboard as a rat, when the truck was heading in the right direction.

However, he was also starting to get worried. While his dark mark was pointing him in the right direction, he was now beginning to suspect his Master was located _beyond_ the south-eastern coast of Italy; across the Adriatic or Ionian Seas. If that was the case, he might have to double back and go around the northern end of the Adriatic by way of Slovenia, Croatia, Bosnia and Herzegovina, and Montenegro.

However, Bosnia-Herzegovina was in the middle of a civil war that had begun in 1992, and he _definitely_ didn't want to have to deal with _that_ little muggle tussle. And skirting around it to the east meant he'd have to pass through Serbia. Yet another nation that had its own strife concerning the disputed territory of Kosovo in its south. And further east yet led him into the eastern bloc countries. And that would not do.

His other choice was to continue in the direction he was going and see if he could find a vessel going from Brindisi on the 'heel' of the 'Italian boot' across the narrow watery divide to Albania. That way he'd bypass all the muggle fighting and be free to continue in his search.

He decided to keep going in the direction he was already heading and hope for the best. After all, the trip from the 'heel' to the west coast of Albania was only about sixty miles.

With a sigh at how far he'd come already, and how far he had yet to go, Pettigrew trudged ever onwards.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When they could, the Weasley twins helped Harry with his experiments. And they also helped the Eight with their potioneering. In return they had the use of the etiquette club office for potioneering and the use of the Room for studying and testing.

The Eight were quite surprised with just how skilled the twins actually were. They were able to combine unique properties of potions with arithmancy and ancient runes - though, they weren't actually taking those last two classes - to develop some rather impressive pranking products.

When asked why they were so focussed on such products, they replied, "We plan on opening our own joke shop..."

"... After we finish our schooling."

"We're going to call it..."

"Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes!"

"You're going to have to develop possibly hundreds of products to make it a viable enterprise," said Daphne.

"Working on it," said one.

"We've got two years to develop..."

"... what we want to sell."

"That book you're using," said Hermione, indicating the large tome they often referenced from, "What is it?"

"It's called '_Magicarum Proprietatibus_'..."

"... and has become our go-to book for potion ingredients."

"May I?" she asked, indicating the book.

The twins grinned and slid it across to her for her to look. Hermione picked it up and scanned through it. With her little frown and while nibbling on her bottom lip, she rifled through the book.

After a little while, she looked at them and said, "This book is incredible. How come we aren't told about this?"

"Because it's a book for..."

"... inventive Potions Masters only."

"Then, how'd _you_ get it?" she asked.

"It was in a second hand book bin...

"... when we went to buy our school books."

"It's the best purchase we've ever made."

"Well worth the investment."

"If you need arithmancy and ancient runes, why aren't you taking those two subjects?" she asked.

"Mum wanted us to take Muggle Studies..."

"... and Care of Magical Creatures."

"She said NEWTs in those two subjects...

"... better prepare us for a job in the Ministry."

"But you're not going to work in the Ministry," said Susan.

"No, but Mum doesn't like the idea..."

"... of us having our own business."

"She thinks we won't be able to..."

"... make a successful go of it."

"That..." said Neville.

"Sucks," said Harry.

The four boys grinned and the twins nodded.

Harry leaned forward and said, "Alright, you two. A clean sheet of parchment, please. You're going to need it."

He then offered his fountain pen and said, "Use this instead of a quill. It's self inking and writes better and quicker."

One twin accepted the pen and studied it for a few moments while the other one laid out a fresh sheet of parchment.

"Alright. First important word - Intelligence. If you want to own your own store you're going to need intelligence about your competition. Of course, that's Zonko's and Gambol and Japes, here in magical Britain. When you can, you need to discover what types of product they stock, and where you see a gap in their product range. That's something you can exploit. More on that in a bit.

"See if you can also get hold of their bulk packaging, such as the boxes the products were delivered in. That's the sort of thing they vanish away, right away. But, sometimes, the cartons may be left on the shop floor waiting for someone to shelve the contents. On those boxes should be the name and mailing address of the distributor that supplied them the products. Take note of that for your own records. And they probably have more than one distributor, too; so, keep an eye out for any more.

"If you get the opportunity, visit joke shops out in the muggle world. I've already noticed neither shop sells muggle joke items. Trust me on this: muggles are incredibly inventive and, if you don't tell a magical it's a muggle item, they'd never know.

"And muggle joke shops will always have their products delivered from a wide range of distributors; so look around in the big bins out behind their shops for the cardboard boxes that the products would have been delivered within.

"Second important word - Diversify. Don't just stick to joke items. Many similar stores in the muggle world also stock things like board games and jigsaw puzzles, and other sorts of puzzles. I've noticed that magical homes haven't caught the board game craze like they had in the muggle world in the middle part of the century. But, in homes that don't have televisions - such as _all_ magical homes - board games are a fantastic way for people to keep themselves amused, especially during the long winters. You may find yourselves starting a new craze in the magical world. And make sure you stock a range of both adult and children's games.

"If you're going to be developing your own products - that is, custom made products - you're not going to have time to make them and operate the shop at the same time. So you might want to consider setting up a manufacturing plant for such products off-site, and hire staff to make them. Of course, that'll also require the development of non-disclosure agreements between yourself and your staff.

"That might sound like a lot of work, but you'll always make a bigger profit on what you develop _yourself_ over what you purchase from a bulk distributor. So it'll be well worth it to you.

"Third important word - Location. You can run the best store in wizarding Britain. However, if people aren't, and won't be, willing to go out of their way to _find_ it. You won't sell anything _through_ it. So, the location of your shop is incredibly important. It needs to be where you expect people to walk past it. Walk-in trade is how you grow one part of your business.

"However, your manufacturing plant should be hidden away. You don't want people to go there, unless they're investors. And, in that situation, you can take them there, anyway. Plus, you know the risks involved in potioneering, especially from explosions. Besides, the rent will be much, much cheaper if it's out of the way. Don't waste valuable Diagon Alley real estate, for instance, on what's not dedicated to direct selling.

"Fourth important word - Finance. You're going to want to develop a business plan that includes how much product you need to sell to make a profit. It also needs to include things like taxes, payroll, the number of staff you need, a five year plan for growth opportunities, how much you're even going to pay _yourselves_, costs for things like front counter and tills, display cases, shelves, other furniture and the like; in other words, the works. A good business plan will be needed to get the best rates from your suppliers to develop lines of credit, for possible investors to see if you're worth investing in, even for Gringotts to give you a business vault.

"I don't know what it's like in the magical world, but it's something like about ninety-five percent of businesses fail after about two years in the muggle world. And it's mainly because they didn't have in place an extensive business plan.

"Now, all of that you can research - and _should_ research - before you even _think_ about opening a store. Forewarned is forearmed. And if you fail to plan you plan to fail. Understand?"

The boys had been writing away madly. Both kept changing off, and even Susan had to loan her fountain pen to keep up with Harry's instructions and writing it all down.

Both boys looked up in a little awe and just nodded.

"Alright. Fifth important word - Distribution. As things stand there, your shop is the only outlet for selling your products. That's stupid. Other stores, such as Flourish & Blott's have a mailing list and order catalogue system. It's a good idea; so adopt it. Especially, when a good proportion of your customer base are going to be children who can't go to your physical store because they're in school. Besides, Filch can only scan children for such products when they walk in carrying it. If it's owl delivered, he can't do much about it. And that's also a selling point you can tell the children on the sly.

"As you'll have an off-site premise as your manufacturing plant, make it dual use. From there you want to also run your mail order service. Use your store to promote the service and have handy a stack of order forms and pamphlets. You'll also want to run a mailing list where people can write down their names and mailing addresses to be sent things like product updates, new products, specials and other relevant information.

"Plus, each time they receive something from you, it puts the name Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in the forefront of their minds. You want to make sure you're sending out information, at least a couple of times, during the lead up to Christmas, _at least_.

"That means you're going to need your own - parliament - of owls. You would very quickly drive the Owl Post office nuts if you use them all the time. And, it'll cost you far more to use the OP than if you have your own flock on hand, when you consider the owls will be worked even harder than Gringotts's owls.

"Setting up a mailing service is even something you can do _before_ you even purchase your storefront. After all, there's a great many children going through Hogwarts that might like to purchase products. And, even if they don't want to buy now, see if you can take their details down for a mailing list, anyway; even if you won't have need of it for a couple more years. This is called developing goodwill and will establish a client base right off the bat.

"Sixth word - Market. Don't try to be everything to everybody; or even most things to everybody. It won't work. Instead, pick a target market. And it can be two different markets for the store and the owl mail divisions of your business. For your owl mail side of the business, you may want to just aim your material at children between the ages of twelve and sixteen. Now, that doesn't mean you won't also sell to others, that's known as the bleed effect. You're just not aiming for anyone else. So you can design your advertising material that goes out that way, accordingly.

"As for the store, you can do like Madam Malkin's does, where she has one side for wizards and the other for witches. You can have one side for adults and the other for children. Or, one side for joke-style products and the other side for board games and jigsaws. It's entirely up to you. But, be prepared to change it if your first idea doesn't work.

"And, finally - Principle. You need to get into the mindset you're going to working your collective _bums_ off. And I'm not talking just about _operating_ the store, I'm talking about _running_ the store. If you think you're doing a lot of paperwork as students, it's nothing compared to what you have to do to run a business. There's invoices, banking, incomings, contracts, keeping an eye on your competitors, maintaining stock levels, stocktaking, and all the other myriad of work, especially paperwork, that's done away from the shop floor. For every hour you're likely to be open, there's probably another hour and a half of work per man-hour to do _at a minimum_.

"So, you're going to need to be both self-motivated to work hard, and willing to fire an employee who just doesn't cut it. And that includes family and friends. You need you and your employees to understand, even if they're family, that when it comes to your business, you're businessmen _first_, and family or friend second. It's going to be _years_ after your first start, before you can even think of kicking back and relaxing."

Harry then sat back and waited for them to be ready. They were still writing away, madly.

Once they were finished - and wringing their hands out from cramp - Harry hit them with another shock.

"Alright, you two. Here's the most important news of your life, so far," he said with a smirk.

Both twins sat forward again, ready to write more.

"If you two come up with a half-decent business plan - and I'm only talking about an outline here, for now - I'll front you your seed money," he said.

Both boys looked back in shock.

"I don't expect you to work miracles," he continued. "And I don't expect you to get it done right away - or get it _right_, right away. Take all the time you need. But, if your initial business plan reflects your dedication to starting up this Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes business venture, I'll front you your start-up capital in exchange for being a silent business partner."

Both boys looked back in wonder for a few moments before they turned to each other and suddenly grinned. "Yes!" they exclaimed in stereo.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

It was after Harry had the twins face off against each other in a duel - something they'd never done before - that something incredible happened. When both boys, instead of taking shots at each other in sequence - for which Harry told them off - and, instead, finally cast spells at the same time, they managed to have the spells collide between them.

The resultant light show was extraordinary and was overlaid by the sound of a unicorn neighing and galloping as if in excited joy.

The first time it happened their wands locked together with the matching red beams of stunners for about three seconds, before both boys wrenched their wands away at the same time. Both boys stood there looking in shock at the other.

However, they weren't the only ones. The Eight, except Luna, were also looking at the pair of them in shock.

"What was _that?!_" they both exclaimed.

"I have no bloody idea!" said Harry, in a little awe.

"It happened when..."

"... we cast at the same time."

"Then, try it again," said Harry.

Both cast stunners at each other and the effect happened again. This time they held it for a little longer before letting it go.

"That's just _freaky_," said Hermione.

They stopped testing, right there, and the twins and Harry wrote down everything they knew of what had happened. It was something to take to both Professor Flitwick, for Harry; and Mister Ollivander, for the twins.

"Neville," said Harry, turning to his friend.

"Mmm?" asked the boy, a little preoccupied by what he'd just witnessed.

"As your wand also has a unicorn hair core, would you mind facing off against one of the twins and cast stunners at each other at the same time?" asked Harry.

A little surprised by the request, it only took Neville a few moments to figure out what Harry was trying to do. He gave a nod and switched out with one of the twins.

"Alright," said Harry, when he saw both was ready. "On the count of three. One - Two - _Three_!"

Both boys cast the same spell at almost the exact some time. However, when their spells connected, they just disappeared with a bang, startling everyone.

"Okay," mused Harry, "It might be the different woods, or it might be hairs from different unicorns."

"Or," said Hermione, "It could be the twins have identical magic, whereas Neville's is different. There are too many other variables."

Harry then tried having Neville use the twin's - who was off the platform - wand, and checking to make sure he could use it, they tried again. And, this time, the same effect occurred.

"Okay, it's the core," said Harry. "If the wand has a core of the same material from the same magical animal, then that lightshow effect occurs. That's good to know."

However, once that was completed, Harry had one twin cast a shield before himself, but a little off to the side, while the other fired a couple of stunners at it. The shield held up, admirably.

But, when the stunner was cast from behind the shield of the other, there was no discernable difference in the power of the stunner after it passed through; nor the shield.

When Harry then cast his own stunner through the shield from behind, there was an almost noticeable drop in the power of the Curse with what seemed a similar drop in the strength of the shield.

After weeks of trying different variations, including using Susan's wand, which was also made of elm, Harry was ready to write up his findings.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With his mind focussed on his experiments in spell resonance, and the added workload of being a Third Year, the weeks spun by.

Hufflepuff beat the Slytherins due to an early catch by Diggory. However, with the score only forty points difference between the two, both were out of the running for the Quidditch Cup. That left Gryffindor as Ravenclaw's only threat.

The weekend after Easter, Gryffindor finally had their match against the Slytherins. Organised, in advance by Harry and the twins, his Firebolt was taken down to the Gryffindor locker room and hidden under a Notice-Me-Not Charm. Ginny would be carrying down his Nimbus 2000 and switch brooms just before soaring out onto the pitch. He just hoped he wouldn't need either broom during the game as he would have access to neither.

His worries, however, proved fruitless. Ginny, on the Firebolt, was unstoppable. The Slytherins clearly planned to do to her as they tried with him. However, Ginny outflew them in speed _and_ manoeuvrability. They simply could not get close to her enough to muscle her. Crabbe and Goyle spent most of the game just chasing after her, leaving the bludgeoning work all to the twins.

And the twins had a veritable Quidditch feast. They had managed to knock out one of the Slytherin chasers and had another injured. However, they'd also caused serious injury to their keeper, Flint.

By the end of the game Gryffindor won 230 - 20 in a landslide victory. But, more worrying to Harry, was the total scores - until Ginny executed an almost lazy catch, Ravenclaw were in trouble of losing their top standing to Gryffindor. With the catch, Gryffindor trailed Ravenclaw by only a handful of points to come in second behind the Eagles.

When Wood discovered their points were insufficient to snatch the Cup out from the claws of the Eagles he was almost inconsolable. However, when he turned on Ginny for catching the snitch 'too early' the twins defended her and reminded their Captain that his orders were, 'Catch the snitch at any cost!', which she did.

However, the older boy could not rob her of her feeling of elation as she handed both brooms back to Harry and kissed him on the cheek. "Thank you, so, so, much!" she said with a great deal of emotion.

Harry just blushed almost crimson and muttered, "S'Alright."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After finally managing to cross the small strait of water of the Adriatic Sea between the heel of Italy and Albania, Pettigrew knew he was much closer to finding his master. He had to take a great risk and use the Imperious Curse on a hapless muggle using his master's own wand, but he felt it worth it. The greater risk was to go the long way around.

Still unable to speak the local language, Pettigrew relied even more on his dark mark to track down his master. After walking about halfway across the country on foot - not that many locals had trucks large enough for him to stow away upon - eventually, he was walking through a large woods.

He knew he'd finally found the right place, as the woods appeared, even to him, to be dark, depressing and haunted. He had managed to find a local villager who spoke a smattering of English. And, from that man, learned that there had been a palpable air of danger about the woods for over ten years. However, that danger had seemed to pass a few years ago for about twelve months, but returned for the past couple of years.

It was the right place. It had to be.

Pettigrew ventured deeper into the woods. He knew he was reaching the end of his search. All he had to do was find what form his master had taken. He doubted his master would still be in the wraith form.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

About two weeks before the start of exams - during the period all professors assigned for end-of-year revisions before exams - Harry learned that Remus had handed in his notice. He quickly ran down to the DADA classroom and its adjoining office to find out why.

"Someone - and I'm not saying who - let it slip to the media I'm a werewolf," explained Moony. "From experience, I've found the best thing I can do is resign before it becomes an issue."

"It's not bloody fair!" whined Harry.

"No, no, it's not," sighed Remus, as he put the last of his personal effects in his trunk. "However, this is the way it is."

"And you're not prepared to fight it?" asked Harry not a little accusatory.

With another sigh, Remus replied, "This is not the first time something like this has happened. And, I have attempted to do so in the past. However, I have come to understand the laws in magical Britain are simply too biased against werewolves for me to get a fair hearing. We are seen as 'dark creatures'. And dark creatures have no rights."

Harry grumbled in annoyance in response.

Remus gave a weak chuckle back and said, "It is enough for me to know you don't feel that way, Harry. But - have no fear - I'll still only be a mirror call away at the Black House with Sirius."

With that, his honourary uncle placed a levitation charm on his trunk and magically leashed it behind himself as he made his way out of the classroom.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With the year winding down Hermione was almost frantic with worry over end of year exams. Daphne had to take the girl aside and tell her, "Hermione, you need to calm down or I'll be forced to take you to the infirmary and have Madam Pomfrey pour Calming Draughts down your throat. You're heading for burn out!"

Finally, Hermione heeded the words of the other girl and settled down. However, she was still overly focussed.

Then, on the Sunday, 5th of June, immediately before exams would start the next day, Buckbeak suddenly disappeared from his chained pen.

Hagrid was both elated and worried about the noble beast. But no sign was discovered as to how the beast managed to escape. There were no traces of magic anywhere around the area. Even the Minister, who came to the castle demanding answers of Dumbledore as to what had happened to the animal, left empty-handed.

When Dumbledore made the announcement that night that Buckbeak had escaped, Neville glanced to Harry and held his gaze for a long moment. Harry just slightly smirked back and gave a surreptitious wink.

Hermione was as happy as could be, and managed to get a decent night's sleep on the eve of what would be a week of gruelling exams.

Neville took him aside and quietly asked, "You freed Buckbeak, the hippogriff, didn't you?"

Harry smiled and said, "Yep."

"How did you do it without leaving a magical trace?" the boy asked.

"I didn't use wizarding magic, that's how," replied Harry. "I called Rizzy, one of the Potter house elves who take care of the grounds at Potter Manor, to come and get him. Rizzy assured me he could both free the beast from its chains and transport it back to the manor.

"He also said he knew how to take care of it and would house it in the stables in the rear of the property. Potters have had hippogriffs before, so it was no hardship for Rizzy to care for the beast."

"Are you going to tell Hermione?" asked Neville.

"I'll wait until summer holidays and invite her to the manor," he replied. "Once there, I'll show her. I've not been able to check how her Occlumency studies have come along, so I need to ensure they get tested by Cygnus before I let her in on things like that."

Transfiguration was the first exam on the Monday morning followed by Charms in the afternoon. The main part of the second was Cheering Charms, which they'd only 'officially' learned at Easter. Everyone exited that exam feeling almost giddy with happiness. Then, for the rest of the week, the group would subtly hit Hermione with the Charm each morning and at lunch.

For the final week, the group just relaxed in their Room and helped the twins with their OWL exams; which were held that and the previous week. But, by the Thursday, Hermione was worrying so much they had to employ Cheering Charms again.

When they received their results at breakfast on the Friday the original Seven again swept the top seven overall spots. Harry took first with Hermione in second, Daphne in third. It also appeared Hermione was going to be a prodigy in ancient runes and arithmancy.

Professors Sinistra and Babbage were trying to steer her to the almost lost art of Enchanting. A _very_ profitable field of magic. Professor Babbage had even loaned her a book on the subject, which Hermione was devouring with an almost hungry expression.

"This is an incredible form of magic," said Hermione almost reverently. "It's the basis of things like pensieves, time turners, and multi-compartmented trunks. Why, there's so much they can do with enchanting, but it's not a field a lot of people want to venture into. I wonder why?"

"Because it takes years more study after Hogwarts to even get the basics of it," said Daphne. "Most young people aren't prepared to dedicate that much time to extra study before they finally start earning their own income."

"As a muggleborn witch, though," said Harry. "Hermione - if she decides to choose the career path of an Enchanter - could maybe use her skills to bring some muggleborn items into the wizarding world."

"For example, she could find a way to enchant a small electrical generator to work inside a wizarding property protected by wards, thus bringing electrical items to be used inside wizarding homes. It definitely bears a good deal of thought towards considering such a career."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry was sitting talking with his friends when they were approached by a very excited Colin Creevey. The young boy was practically bouncing up and down on his feet.

"Mister Creevey?" asked Harry, knowing what was coming. It was quite obvious. The boy held in his hands his copy of his end of year results.

Without a word, Colin handed the document over to Harry. Harry calmly took the proffered slip of parchment and made a show of taking his time to read it.

Looking back up at the boy, he said, "_Four_ Outstandings and _three_ Exceeds Expectations, Mister Creevey. I'm impressed! Especially, considering you practically skipped the whole first year."

The boy nodded happily.

"And, a promise is a promise," said Harry. "Is there anywhere you need to be immediately following breakfast?"

The boy just shook his head.

"I wonder if he can _cast_ silently, too," smirked Tracey.

Harry just chuckled and, smiling, said to the boy, "Alright, Mister Creevey. After we finish breakfast, I'll come and collect you from the Gryffindor table. From there, we'll head up to the etiquette club room and I'll show you what you need to do to cast a patronus."

"Yes!" exclaimed the boy, before he practically skipped back to the Gryffindor table.

The group laughed.

"_Full_ of beans, that one," said Neville.

A little worriedly, Hermione asked, "Are you _sure_ you're going to be able to teach him, Harry? I mean, without - you know."

Harry nodded back and replied, "I think I can, yeah? He certainly had the energy for it. I just hope he has the right memory. _That_ will be the difference as to whether he can cast it or not."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The group followed Harry, with young Colin in tow, up to the club room. He gave the password and entered, holding the door open for everyone to enter.

Indicating a desk and chair, Harry said, "Take a seat there, Mister Creevey."

The boy dutifully sat and Harry brought over a chair to sit directly opposite him. The others all sat away to give him peace, and to not make the boy feel as if he was being pressured.

Taking seat, Harry said, "I don't know what you remember of that day in the infirmary so I'm going to start at the beginning."

He then covered what the patronus did, and why it was created. As the boy had seen him use it as a messenger, he also covered why it was so useful. And then covered the basics of how to power the Charm, and where it came from.

"So, you need to find a memory you have that is full of happiness and love - leaning more towards love than happiness. For you, at your age, I'm going to suggest it will have something to do with your parents. Think about _how_ you felt when you travelled home on the train last Christmas. Think about _how_ you felt when they greeted you on the platform when the Expressed pulled in to Kings Cross. _Feel_, how it felt when your Mum gave you a big hug."

Harry gave him a few moments to picture it as the boy sat there with his eyes closed. "_Feel_ the love you felt. Let it _fill_ you. Let her love _pour_ into you."

As he talked, Harry was rather surprised by just how strong an emotion the boy was radiating.

"Hold that feeling, for now, and open your eyes," said Harry.

As the boy opened his eyes Harry could see them almost glowing with love and warmth. He even heard the whispering coming from the others as they saw it too.

"As I move out of the way, draw you wand. Hold the feeling," and Harry slipped out of the chair, dragging it out of the way.

Young Colin, with an almost beatific smile on his face, effortlessly drew his wand.

"Now, while holding the love within you, point your wand, push with your magic and incant, '_Expecto Patronum!_' to get your patronus..."

Not waiting for Harry to finish, Colin incanted, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

The almost corporeal form of a small dog erupted from his wand, and bounded across the room.

"Push with more magic, Colin. It's almost there," instructed Harry.

And, almost suddenly, the small dog solidified into the corporeal form of a Jack Russell Terrier. It looked around a bit before it bounded around to stand in front of the desk where Colin was sitting. It's small tail wagging madly while it looked like it was panting.

"Alright, Colin," said Harry gently while wearing a big grin. "Release it, now."

And the terrier faded away.

With a sigh, more felt than heard, Colin slumped in his chair. He was grinning like a loon with happiness. The others in group came over to congratulate him.

"That's - _exhausting_," sighed the boy; tired but happy.

With a grin and nod in return, Harry said, "It's _very_ powerful magic, Mister Creevey. It takes a lot out of you."

The boy sat up a little straighter then and with an almost pleading expression asked, "Can I do it again?"

Harry chuckled and said, "How about you try again in about five minutes, alright? Give yourself a chance to fill up with magic again."

And just over five minutes later, he cast his second patronus.

While waiting to recharge himself, Colin said, "Oh! I've got something to show you!" And he swung his book bag into his lap.

Rifling through it he pulled out a manila folder and laid it on the desk before him. Then he flipped it open and indicated to what was held within.

Harry could see that they were large photographs, so came forward to see them better.

"Here's the first photograph I took," said the boy, sliding one out and across the desk towards Harry.

Harry remembered the situation quite well. It was the day after they'd arrived back for the beginning of second year when Colin almost shoved the camera in Harry's face without asking. It was a good picture.

The boy then began to show them all other photographs he'd taken. They included scenes of the castle, taken from up near the front gates; one from when he was clearly riding in the boat on his first approach to the castle to be sorted; another of clearly friends hamming it up, and waving to the camera; a couple of beautiful candid shots of students and staff.

"Mister Creevey, these are incredible," said Luna. "You have a gift."

The boy nodded happily. I want to be a journalist photographer when I graduate. I'd _love_ to be able to take photographs as a professional photographer."

"You certainly have the talent," said Daphne.

After one last cast, where Colin succeeded at casting the Patronus without Harry's coaching, and used it to send a message to his little brother - for which he was suitably chastised - they sent the very happy boy on his way.

"He really _is_ a good photographer," said Luna. "I wonder if Daddy can offer him the occasional piece of work."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	57. The Talk

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Seven - The Talk**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After the Leaving Feast the night before, where Gryffindor won the House Cup, the Eight were soon on the Express heading back to London. Between them, they were making plans for what to do over the summer break.

"So, Hermione," said Harry, getting his Protectee's attention. "I'd like you to come to Potter Manor for one day of the break with me and Daphne. There's a couple of things there you need to see."

"Like what?" she asked.

"My family tapestry, for one," he replied with a shrug. "Plus, I also thought you might like to have a look at the Potter family library."

Hermione perked up at that; as Harry knew she would. 'Too easy,' he thought.

"Is it bigger that Uncle Cygnus and Auntie Isabel's?" she asked.

"Yes, actually," said Harry.

"When can we go?" she eagerly asked.

"It's something to arrange with your parents," replied Harry. "Besides, I think they might like to see it, as well."

Looking to the others, he said, "The invitation's open to all of you, by the way. I hope you'd like to see the home in which Daphne and I will live once we marry."

That earned him grins all round. But, it was Luna who asked, "Have you asked Hermione about her home, yet, Harry?"

A little shocked, Harry replied, "Oh, dear Luna, I had forgotten to ask her. I'm so sorry." Then he turned to Hermione and asked, "Hermione, I promised Luna a long time ago that I'd ask you if you'd ask your parents if it was okay for Luna to visit your home. She is quite interested in seeing a muggle home for herself, and learning about things such as televisions and kitchen appliances. With your parents' blessings, would it be okay for Luna to visit?"

"Oh! Of course!" replied Hermione, before turning to the younger blonde. "I'll ask them straight away, Luna. I'm sure, though, they'll be ever so pleased for you to visit. If you give me your floo address I'll floo call you as soon as I can with their answer."

Then the two girls, the oldest and youngest in their group, quietly conversed while Hermione answered some questions about muggle furniture; and Luna tried to explain about Wrackspurts and Blubbering Humdingers.

"So," said Harry, "everyone's on for visiting Potter Manor at some time over the holidays? I shall even have our elves provide lunch for everyone. Callie will be _thrilled_ to be of service."

Everyone agreed.

"I think I'm going to finally be able to start stocking my new greenhouse, this summer," said Neville. "It wasn't finished in time, last year, for me to get in there and make a start."

"How are you going to care for the plant life if you're going to spend nine months of every year at Hogwarts?" asked Hannah.

"Ummm - I haven't thought that far through, yet," the boy said. "I think I'm going to have to purchase a house elf to look after it for me while I'm away."

"If you need the loan of one, in the meantime," said Harry. "I'll tell Rizzy, my 'outside' house elf, to come and give you a hand. He's supposedly well-trained on working within a greenhouse."

That made Neville happy. "Thanks, Harry. That would be appreciated. Then Rizzy can teach the house elf I buy how to do the job, too."

"It's no problem, Neville," replied Harry. "I know Rizzy is not feeling all that happy, at the moment, because there's only a very small section of the Potter greenhouses operational. And only one animal to feed."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After arriving at the station at Kings Cross and bidding their other friends a safe trip home, Harry, Daphne and Astoria travelled back to Greengrass Estate with the elder Greengrasses and the Grangers. They headed over to the old Midland and floo'ed home, this time; the Greengrasses and Harry to Greengrass Estate, and the Grangers to Dagworth-Granger Manor.

Of course, the first few days were telling Cygnus, Isabel, Sirius and Remus all about the year that they hadn't covered in their letters; something which had also abated, somewhat, this year due to the greater workload of classes and assignments. Plus it was really the first time in a long time that Harry had sat down with Astoria to talk.

After she berated him a little for not spending enough time with her during the school year - and Harry apologising profusely and telling her he thought she would _much_ prefer to spend time with her new friends instead of an old fuddy-duddy like him - she told him about her new friends and her new mortal enemy.

"Oh?" asked Harry. "And who would this foul villain, or villainess, happen to be who has the ire of my favourite future sister-in-law?"

"Her name is Romilda Vane," spat Astoria. "She's a cow. The old _heifer_ thinks she's better than everyone else and better _looking_ than everyone else."

"But, we know that's not true, don't we, Tori," said Harry with a smile. "I don't even have to _know_ what she looks like to know you're more beautiful than her. Because, in my mind, you're equally as beautiful as your sister and I happen to think your sister is the most beautiful person in the world."

"Awww!" said Tori in a mock-whine. "_Why_ did it have to be Daffy who managed to get herself betrothed to you?"

"Because you wouldn't be born for another two years?" replied Harry.

"That's _so_ not fair!" pouted the girl.

Harry chuckled, leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. Tori blushed quite prettily.

"And what about friends?" he asked. "Someone as wonderful as you should have _loads_ of friends."

Blushing, Tori said, "Yeah, there are a few friends. A couple of girls in my dorm - and - umm - this boy."

"A boy?" mock-exclaimed Harry. "And just who might this scoundrel be; hmm?" he asked in his mock-threatening way.

Astoria looked back in shock and exclaimed, "Harry James Potter, don't you dare!"

"Dare what?" he asked feigning innocence.

"Don't you _dare_ go all Angry Harry on him," she firmly replied. "He's just a friend. And - And I'm not going to tell you who he is!"

Harry chuckled again and said, "It's alright, Tori. I promise I won't - unless, of course, he harms you."

Tori hugged him and said, "You make a good big brother."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the late Saturday morning after they returned to London, the group, plus the Weasley twins, gathered at Greengrass Estate to floo to Potter Manor. Harry had to go through first to add the new names to the ward book - the Grangers were two of them, as they also asked to come along. Harry was happy to have them join them.

Once everyone was safely at Potter Manor, Harry led the group up to see the family tapestry. There, he pointed out to the Grangers the name Dagworth-Granger, which set the whole investigation into Hermione's birthright in motion. The Grangers stared at the name in not a little awe.

"So, we're related in some way?" asked Wendell.

"Yes," replied Harry. "Then again, I doubt there's an Ancient House that is not related to every other Ancient House in some way. It's the whole pureblood dogma that led to it. For instance, Sirius is my cousin through my paternal grandmother, Dorea Black," and he indicated her name on the tapestry. "Through her, I'm also related to Draco Malfoy, a boy in Slytherin House in our Year at Hogwarts."

"If we were to not include the muggleborn students, I'd say I'm probably related, in some way, to two thirds of the student and staff population; including the Weasleys. With them, about half."

From the tapestry Harry showed them the rest of the upstairs, including the Lord's and Lady's chambers, and the close family member's rooms; then through the guest wing.

Returning downstairs Harry showed them the Lord's personal office, which still had the broken basilisk fang and the Sword of Gryffindor on top of the desk - and some of the other rooms before leading them to the library. As soon as they walked in, there were gasps of surprise from some. Hermione, though, almost squealed before running over to the nearest bookshelf.

Harry wasn't able to pry Hermione away from the books until he promised her she could borrow some when she wanted, and that he had a personal surprise for her out the back.

After a quick tour of the gardens, this time without their deep covering of snow, Harry called Rizzy and had the little elf lead them to their 'guest'.

When they were still quite some distance from the stable and corral, Hermione saw, right away, Buckbeak lying on the grass sunning himself. The Grangers were stunned just looking at the creature. But there was another squeal from Hermione, who immediately threw her arms around Harry's neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

"_You_ did it," she exclaimed. "You _saved_ him!"

When the girl pulled back, Harry said, "Technically, no. I asked Rizzy to unshackle him and bring him here for sanctuary. The Ministry will not find him here."

"Thank you!" she cried, enveloping him in another 'Hermihug'.

"You're most welcome," he said. "And he's no burden, as Rizzy is happy to take care of him."

"What _is_ that?" asked Wendell.

"It's a hippogriff, Daddy!" exclaimed Hermione. "His name's Buckbeak."

Hermione then walked forward towards the head of the beast.

Monica looked ready to dash out and pull her away, but Harry grabbed her by the arm and quietly said, "Just watch, Monica. Hermione knows what she's doing."

Hermione walked head on to the animal and stopped about five feet short. Buckbeak warily watched her approach. Hermione waited a few moments, before she dropped into a slow curtsey, and waited.

A few moments later, Buckbeak gave her a returned nod. And she moved forward again with a wide smile.

She stood there gently brushing down the beast's neck for a few moments and talking softly to it.

Returning to the beast's front she backed away for a few feet before, once more, dropping into a curtsey. The gesture was returned and Hermione happily returned to her parents.

"Wh - what was _that_ all about?" asked her clearly shaken father.

"I was paying my respects, Daddy," she smiled. "He really _is_ a wonderful animal."

"_Please_, don't do anything like that in front of us _again_, do you hear?" asked her shaken mother.

"We're taught how to be safe in Care of Magical Creatures, Mum," she soothingly replied. "I would not have approached any closer if Buckbeak didn't bow back. I promise. Once he bowed back, though, I was completely safe."

"But, still..." her father sighed. "It was - disconcerting - to see you so close to that sharp beak."

After they returned inside and enjoyed a wonderful lunch prepared by Callie, who was almost in heaven cooking for such a large group of people after such a long time, it was time to leave the manor.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

From Potter Manor the wizarding adults who'd accompanied them returned to their own homes while the Eight and the Weasley twins headed for Dagworth-Granger Manor.

On exiting the floo, Harry almost lost circulation in his thighs when Dobby hugged him. "The great and wonderful Happy Potter, Sir, is visiting Dagworth-Granger House. Dobby is so happy!"

"Hello, Dobby," replied Harry. "I've heard you're very happy here."

"Oh, yes, Sir!" replied the elf. "The Grangies are _wonderfu_l masters and mistresses!"

Harry smiled back at the elf and said, "I'm happy for you, Dobby."

Hermione then gave the wizarding world raised children a demonstration on how the television, VCR, and stereo worked, including how they were powered; before moving into the kitchen and showing them the appliances in there.

Luna was chock full of questions, as were the twins.

"Dad would love to come here and see all this working," said one of the twins.

"He has his own collection of plugs and batteries," said the other.

After their quick trip around the house Wendell set the VCR and television going with a showing of Star Wars - a favourite in this household. The group were completely spellbound for the two hours it took to play. They barely noticed when Dobby produced popcorn and butterbeer for them all.

When it finished the excited wizarding teens were just about jumping up and down. The twins tried to re-enact some of the scenes within the movie, and there was a lot of 'May the Force be with you,' in deep bass voices.

Wendell rolled his eyes and muttered to his wife, "_I_ wasn't that bad, was I?"

"Only for the first day or two," she replied, just as quietly with a smile.

"It's hard to believe it's been more than fifteen years since that movie came out," sighed Wendell.

"You forgot you took me to see it on one of our dates?" she asked, almost dangerously.

"No, no!" said Wendell, not falling for the obvious trap. "It - just feels like only yesterday when we were married."

When Monica smiled back Wendell breathed a mental sigh of relief. 'Ducked that one,' he thought.

Turning to the group, he said, "Alright, now. Unless you have permission of your parents to stay longer, I think it's about time everyone headed home."

"Can we come back and see..." asked one twin.

"More of those moving pictures another time?" asked the other.

"With the permission of your parents, of course you can," replied Dan.

"Before the twins, Daphne and I leave, though," Harry said to Wendell, "I wanted to ask if you have any board games in the house? And, jigsaw puzzles? I want the twins to see some different types."

"Why - yes," replied Wendell. "I believe they're in the cupboard under the stairs."

Daphne, who was holding on to Harry's arm, felt her love suddenly tense. She gently soothed him as Dan went to the cupboard and brought forth about a dozen such games and jigsaw puzzles.

He took them into the lounge and left them stacked on the coffee table. Indicating each, he said, "I have Monopoly, Scrabble, Ludo, an Australian game called Squatter - which is actually good fun for adults - Backgammon, Sorry, Yahtzee, Mousetrap - which Hermione loved - Uno, and a couple of other young children's' games. In jigsaws we mainly have 1000 and 500 piece ones as Monica loves them, but there's a couple of larger 100 and 150 piece ones from when Hermione was little."

"This is what I was talking about, you two," Harry said to the twins. "Some of these games are for young children and can loads of fun for them. Others, such as Backgammon - which is a strategy game - Monopoly and Scrabble are for the olders.

"The same applies to the jigsaws. These are mainly solitary activities for a person to do. And all of them can take many hours from start to finish. Some jigsaws can take weeks to complete.

"If you add these sorts of things to your product line, you can easily create a new craze in the wizarding world. And, most of these games will run you about two galleons _retail_. Of course, they're much cheaper when you buy them wholesale to sell. I firmly believe they will be a big seller in your store. And, they're also packaged - as you can see - to allow them to be easily displayed. The packaging, itself, acts as a display."

"These are..."

"... _brilliant_!" said the twins in excitement.

"What's even more brilliant," said Harry. "Is that this is only a very tiny example of what's available out there in the muggle world. There are literally thousands of different games available on the market today. Your job is going to be talking to the muggleborns and -raised to get an idea of what they and their parents loved, and stocking those."

Indicating each he explained, "Games such as Scrabble, Backgammon, Monopoly and Ludo have been around for many, many years; and, yet, are still a big seller even today. I doubt there would be a single home in muggle Britain, at least, who does not own, or has not at least _played_, Monopoly and Scrabble on more than one occasion.

"At the minimum you should be stocking those, plus much more, in the board games' section of your store. The same also goes for a wide range of jigsaw puzzles. However, you're also going to be limited to games that do not have an electronic component. That is, one's that require batteries.

"However, all such games that require batteries, by muggle law, must state it requires batteries, together with what _size_ of battery, on the packaging. You simply do not stock those games. Until, at least, you are able to get past the problem of magic destroying them.

The twins were even more excited about the games and jigsaw puzzles than they were about the movie when they left. They were already talking about how best to market the games to the wizarding world when they left.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Pettigrew had finally found his master and, on no sooner finding him, was given a task to complete. The dark lord, through minor Legilimency from the body of a snake it currently inhabited, told him he needed Pettigrew to break into the local muggle healer's office.

That night, Pettigrew was in his animagus form and watching the local muggle healers. He was waiting for them to close, so he could break in and go through their files. His master told him that the local muggle healer would have extensive files in a filing cabinet, usually behind the receptionist's desk. In those files he was to search for the details of a young pregnant woman. The woman must be ready to give birth within the next couple of weeks.

Once he had the details of the woman, he was to go to her home. If others lived there, he was to kill them. Then, using the Imperious Curse, he was to force the woman to walk into the woods with him; back to his master.

The dark lord had also been teaching Pettigrew certain spells. Pettigrew did not know why, but they were specific healers spells used in magical surgery. One of them was a very specific cutting spell. Pettigrew did not like to dwell on why for too long.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back at Greengrass Estate, the next morning, Harry sought out Cygnus. He was in the informal dining room.

Taking a seat opposite, Harry asked, "Got a minute or two?"

"Of course Harry," replied the older man. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm - wondering, when it was, that the Ministry claimed Potter Cottage in Godric's Hollow. According to my property portfolio, I actually still own it. However, they've claimed it and made it a - monument - to the end of the war."

"Ah!" said Cygnus, understanding. "Yes, they did that very shortly after Voldemort was destroyed."

"Well, were they legally allowed to do that?" asked Harry. "I mean - alright - they can claim it as a monument. But, as I still actually own the property, shouldn't they have bought it from me - my estate, I mean - or, at least be paying rent?"

With a frown, Cygnus asked, "You mean, they're not?"

Harry shook his head. "Not one knut is finding it's way into the Potter accounts. So, I figured, either they've completely forgotten they need to..."

"... or, someone is pocketing it before it gets to you," finished Cygnus.

The older man sat back and thought. Harry watched him and, knowing the man now, waited for him to figure it out.

"I - remember voting on this soon after the war," mused Cygnus, leaning back. "I recall we made a decision. And, I recall that decision would _definitely_ not have seen the property effectively stolen from you. Merlin, everyone thought you and your parent's _heroes_. _No one_, would have stood for you being cheated of your money."

Leaning back forward and resting his crossed arms on the table, he continued, "No, there was definitely an agreement to pay rent with an option to approach you, when you were old enough, to purchase the property from you."

Harry sighed and said, "I'm not too fussed over the lack of rent being paid. As you understand, such monies represent an almost insignificant _fraction_ of the Potter wealth. However, I find myself quite annoyed about being _cheated_ of the money."

"As would I," sighed Cygnus.

"So, I'm thinking of letting my inner Slytherin come out and play, over this," said Harry, carefully watching his future father-in-law.

Watching back carefully, with a slight smirk Cygnus asked, "Oh?"

With an answering smirk, Harry replied, "It should not be too difficult to track down who it is that's - diverting - the money into their own vaults. They will most definitely be working for the Ministry. We only need to follow the money trail from the public records to find them.

"That is, which department authorises the ongoing payments, who signs off on it, who's responsible for making the transfer occur, et cetera. Along that line, we'll soon find who's diverting the funds; and, where those funds are going.

"Now comes my inner Slytherin. We now have a hold over that particularly disgusting individual through - holding the evidence."

Sitting back again, Cygnus grinned back and asked, "And if it's the Minister?"

Still smirking, Harry replied, "Then we squeeze his nads until he squeals like a little girl. And get everything out of him we want _whenever_ we want."

Cygnus roared with laughter.

After he'd calmed down a bit, Harry said, "However, if the miscreant who's pocketing the money is pretty much worthless to us, Aunt Amelia get's a floo call."

Nodding while grinning his head off, Cygnus said, "Then it appears I have a new investigative project before me."

"I find myself hoping it actually _is_ the Minister," said Harry

"Me too!" said Cygnus.

"I'm also wondering, once we discover the identity of the miscreant, if we'll also find more," said Harry.

Prophetic words, indeed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Pettigrew was pleased with himself. He'd found the perfect woman; a young twenty-two year old who was almost nine months along. That very night he found her home not far away. He breathed a sigh of relief he would not have to kill any children, as the woman and her husband were expecting their first.

Finding them asleep in their bed, he killed the husband with a barely whispered Killing Curse before turning his wand on the woman.

"_Imperio!_" he whispered.

When she immediately awoke her eyes glazed over and her face took on a blank expression. He had her rise and get dressed in only a dress and light weight low-heeled slip on shoes.

Once she was ready, he gave her her instructions on where to go and what to do. Then he transformed back into his animagus form. She bent down and picked him up, before dropping him into one of the large pockets on her dress.

In no hurry, she simply walked out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out the front door.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A couple of days later, Harry was sitting at the informal dining table going over House Potter finances when Daphne walked in and, from behind his chair, leaned forward over his shoulders to hug him to her chest. That, in itself, wouldn't have distracted him so much. However, he was also feeling her breasts resting on his shoulders. It was just the sort of thing to throw his concentration into disarray.

More and more he had taken to notice the changes that were occurring to his betrothed's body. And, he _really_ liked it. He liked it _too_ much, on occasion, as it made it rather uncomfortable to be a male, at times.

"Harry," she purred. "You know how I prefer to go shopping towards the end of the summer holidays?"

"Mmm?" he squeaked.

"I need to go early for a short trip this year," she purred again.

"Mmm?" he squeaked again.

She then pulled away a little to lean down and breathe softly in his ear. "I need to go and buy some new underwear." She then kissed him lightly on the neck before whispering in his ear again. "My bras are now too tight for me."

Harry felt as if he was hit with a body bind spell; so frozen to the spot he was.

"Will you take me shopping, Harry?" she purred, before standing up straighter and running the back of his head between her breasts.

"Iiii..." he squeaked.

Harry suddenly jumped up and almost knocked Daphne over, before he ran out through the door and into the parlour. He raced to the fireplace, grabbed a handful of floo powder, tossed it into the fireplace and cried out, "The Black House!"

He stepped in almost before the flames finished forming. And was whisked away.

Daphne had started to follow him out of the kitchen when she heard the whoosh of the fireplace and Harry's almost hysterical cry for the Black House.

Dashing in to the parlour, she was far too late.

"That little - _shit_!" she angrily exclaimed, just in time for both her parents to enter and hear her.

"_Daphne!_" her mother exclaimed in shock. "What ever brought _that_ on?"

Turning to her mother with a scowl, she replied, "I wanted Harry to take me shopping in Diagon Alley. He bolted!"

"What sort of shopping?" asked Cygnus. "Besides, you usually want to do that towards the end of the summer break. Why now?"

"I need to go and shop for some - items now," replied Daphne with a knowing look at her mother.

'Ah!' thought Isabel. "And, I take it he didn't want to go?" she smiled.

"He ran like someone set his bum on fire!" replied the girl. "I think he's gone to hide out at his reprobate of a godfather's place."

"Well. No doubt you need to go," Isabel said with a light chuckle. "I'll go and get Astoria and we'll make a girl's excursion of it," she said firmly, before she turned around and headed out the door heading for the stairs.

Daphne sighed. She'd hoped to be able to purchase some items of underwear that she could later wear to - entice - Harry's physical affections. She was beginning to worry her betrothed would never touch her in any way other than what he could do publicly and the one time she basically ambushed him in the Come and Go Room.

She would need to broach the subject with her mother and hoped she'd both understand and aid her. After all, she and Harry were betrothed. It wasn't being - cheap - of her to want to escalate things a little now that they would both be fourteen. They were to be married in three years, were they not?

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Over in the Black House at Grimmauld Place, Harry was currently sitting on a couch in the parlour in a full body bind. And his godfather - that traitorous dog - was trying to give him 'The Talk'.

When he'd come flying out of the fireplace, Sirius was quickly in the room with his wand drawn.

"Harry?" he godfather said, not a little worried once he saw the look of almost fright on his godson's face. "What's wrong?"

"Daphne!" he blurted. "She - she - wants me to go - go - shopping with her!"

Frowning, Sirius asked, "And what's wrong with that?"

"She wants to buy - _unmentionables!_" Harry exclaimed in almost horror.

Giving that a moment to sink in, Sirius barked with laughter. "And she wants you there to ask you your opinion?"

Harry vigorously nodded. "She - she's done it before! In - Hogsmeade!"

Sirius leaned against the door frame while he roared with laughter. Eventually, he couldn't stand any longer and fell to the floor laughing himself silly.

"It's not funny, Sirius!" said Harry, a little hurt at his godfather's reaction.

After managing to get control of himself, Sirius said, "Oh, yes it is, pup. But, not for the reasons you think."

The look of confusion his godson returned to him had Sirius chuckling again. "Harry; she _wants_ you to know what she's going to be wearing under her clothes. She _wants_ you to be thinking about that."

"But - why?" the boy pleadingly asked, begging to know.

"Because she knows what effect it will have on you," replied Sirius. "She wants you to have a physical reaction to her when you look at her."

Harry looked confused for a moment before he suddenly looked back in horror. "You mean, she - she knows what I'm _thinking?_" And he blushed, mightily.

Sirius looked back and gently said, "Of course, she does. And she wants you to think of her that way - in a _sexual_ manner."

Looking at the expression on Harry's face, Sirius stood and said, "I should have had this talk with you last year, at the latest." Indicating one of the armchairs, he said, "Take a seat, dear godson. You and I need to talk."

Warily, Harry approached the indicated armchair and sat, while Sirius went and sat in the other one.

Thinking for a few moments and twiddling with his wand while Harry carefully watched him, he asked, "What do you know about how little witches and wizards are made?"

Harry looked back in dawning horror for a few moments, before he suddenly shot to his feet and made a break for the floo powder and fireplace. Expecting the possibility of such a reaction, Sirius was quick with a Body Bind Curse and Levitation Charm. He levitated Harry back to the armchair and sat him down on it.

Still looking horrified at his godfather and struggling within his bindings, Harry couldn't believe what was happening. His godfather, the man he trusted to be a friend more than a father figure, was going to give him 'The Talk'.

"Now," said Sirius, corralling his thoughts. "Let's talk about the changes happening in your body first. Then we'll go into the changes happening in Daphne's body. And then we'll go into _why_ these changes are happening.

"I hope you're comfortable," said Sirius. "This is going to take a while. I've been preparing for this talk since you were a baby.

Settling himself better into his own chair, he began, "Firstly, your own bodily changes..."

Harry mentally whimpered. He had been _betrayed_.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A while later, Remus floo'ed over. The first thing he saw was the son of his best friend trussed up like a Christmas turkey in one armchair while Sirius appeared relaxed in the other.

Frowning, he asked, "What's going on?"

A little unctuously, Sirius replied, "I'm carrying out my godfatherly duties by giving Harry '_The Talk_'."

Surprised, Remus looked over at Harry, who was pleading with his eyes.

Smirking, he said, "I'll leave you with it, then." And walked out of the room heading for the kitchen. Harry watched him go with murderous thoughts on his mind.

"Now, where were we," mused Sirius, dragging Harry's attention back to him. "Ah, yes. Some of the fun you can have, without going to full coitus..."

'Oh, _Merlin_!' thought Harry. 'They shall pay. They shall _both_ pay for this injustice!'

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	58. Dance Lessons

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Eight – Dance Lessons**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Pettigrew was off to the side, shivering in disgust at what he had done. He had tied the woman down and cut her open, right to the infant inside. He removed the infant, tied and cut the umbilical, and placed the infant inside the rune circle.

He then hit the now unconscious woman with the Killing Curse and left her there, before turning back to the ritual.

Following the chant precisely, he bound the spirit of his master, who had just released itself from the snake, and possessed the child. Quickly, he held the container of the snake venom milk potion to the lips of his newly reborn master so that he could drink it.

It didn't take long after that. The possessed infant screamed out in hideous pain before it began writhing in agony. Slowly, the skin darked, the nose receded, and the eyes changed to the 'normal' red of his master.

After no more than a minute, the now deformed infant looked at his minion and, in that high pitched raspy voice, said, "Wormtail. You have done well. Again, I am reborn. And _soon_ I shall have a more normal body.

"However, first, we must gather information before our return to dear old England and Magical Britain. Prepare yourself for travel. I want you to go to the magical community of Albania and gather information. You are to return each night."

"Yes, Master," Pettigrew bowed and scraped.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After Harry had made a run for it from Greengrass Estate, Daphne fumed for a while. She had wanted the outing to be her and Harry. She wanted him to see what underwear she wanted to buy to feel - sexy - for him. Yet, he'd run as if it was the most horrific thing she could do to him.

When Isabel returned with a very happy Astoria, they headed via floo to Diagon Alley.

"Now, Daphne," said Isabel. "I take it your bust has grown, or is about to grow, beyond the current sizing charms of your bras?"

"Yes, mother," sighed Daphne. "However - I don't just want - practical; if you know what I mean?"

She was worried her mother was going to get upset with her. However, she did not. Instead, she smiled in that knowing fashion her mother had.

"Indeed, I do," Isabel said with a smile. "I completely understand. So, we shall go for lace and something that will allow a bit more low-cut, yes?"

"I - umm - Harry is nothing but a complete gentleman," Daphne stuttered. "But, as we only have three years to go until we're married - and we've been together for three years now, too..."

"Ahhh..." said Isabel. "You want to introduce him to the girls, yes?"

Daphne blushed.

"It's alright, Daphne," soothed her mother. "You're right. You are betrothed and will be married. It's not as if you're intending to spend any time with any other boy. We shall see what they stock and make the right purchases, alright?"

Daphne nodded, relieved, and said, "Thank you."

"However," said Isabel, "We also need to have a look at the ball gowns. Something suitable for a Yule Ball."

Daphne groaned and asked, "I'm not going to have to attend the Ministry Yule Ball, am I?"

"No, dear," replied Isabel. "However, there may be a Yule Ball at Hogwarts, this year. And you may want to attend on the arm of your betrothed."

Daphne looked sharply at her mother and frowned, "You know something."

"I do," replied Isabel. "However, we're not to speak of it except to ensure you are suitably packed when you leave for Hogwarts, to be suitably ready to be attired for a Yule Ball."

"Then I'm going to need something warm," said Daphne thinking of the Scottish climate at Christmas. "Something I can also wear a winter cloak over. Something that will go well with Harry's eyes.

Suddenly looking at her mother, she exclaimed, "We need to teach Harry how to dance!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After Harry had returned to Greengrass Estate he retired to his room. He didn't come down until it was time for dinner, and then kept counsel to himself. Every time he caught the eyes of his betrothed he'd blush and look away.

Again, straight after dinner, he headed for his room. He was hiding out in there and doing his summer homework. However, Daphne wasn't going to allow him to do that. He was working on his arithmancy assignment when he heard a knock on his door.

"Come in," he called, focussed on his work.

"Are you ready to talk to me yet?" asked the voice of Daphne.

Harry winced. He knew he was going to have to face the music, so decided to get it out of the way now, rather than later. He put his fountain pen down and turned to his betrothed, where she stood just inside the door.

"I'm sorry," he said, eyes downcast.

"You ran from me," she said slightly accusingly.

"I did," he replied.

"If you didn't want to go shopping you could have said so," she said.

"I panicked," he said. "I couldn't handle going through what you put me through in Hogsmeade that time. You don't know what it does to me."

"Of course I do," she said. "But I'm trying to get you used to knowing me. _All_ of me. We're to be married in three years, and we've already been together for three years. Don't you think it's time to drop some of the barriers between us?"

Harry blushed. "I'm - struggling. I - want to do things with you, but I don't want to either betray your trust or act anything other than a gentleman."

With a sigh, Daphne came over and motioned for him to spin his chair around a little. When he did she plonked herself onto his lap.

"Besides," he said with a bigger blush and a sheepish grin. "I didn't get off scot free, anyway."

"What do you mean?" she asked.

"Almost as soon as I arrived in the Black House Sirius bound me and spent the next two long and excruciating hours giving me the dreaded 'Talk'," he said blushing and looking away.

"The talk?" she asked. "Oh! _That_ talk." And she laughed.

He nodded, still looking away, and said, "And Sirius is - serious - about talking about sex. He went into a _lot_ of detail."

"I hope you were paying attention," she said with a chuckle in her voice.

In shock, Harry turned to look directly at her. "What?" he asked.

"Eloquence, Mister Potter," she chided him. "I hope you were paying attention and he also covered things we can do without going to - intercourse."

Harry blushed and turned away, again. "Well - yes, he did," he quietly replied.

"Good," she said. "Mother told me quite a few things too. We should compare notes, sometime."

After a few moments, he asked, "Are we - ready to take things further?"

It was a few moments before Daphne replied. A few moments that felt like hours to Harry. "I - think - so," she slowly replied. "But, not here, though. It'll have to wait until we're back at school.

"Mother seems to understand, but I'm sure Father wouldn't be so - open minded. And, I don't want to create problems where no problem needs to be."

"Sirius - told me some things - I can do - for you," Harry said, haltingly. "I promise I'll never take things faster than you're ready for. But, you're also going to have to help me out there by telling me when you _are_ ready."

"I can do that," she replied.

Wanting to change the subject, he asked, "And did you manage to get shopping done today?"

"I did," she replied. "Mother took both me _and_ Tori. We made a girl's day out of it. And I did buy that new underwear, too. Plus - a little something extra."

"Is this 'little something extra' something I'm going to like?" he asked, a little cheekily.

She smirked back and said, "If you'd come shopping with me, you'd know. Now, you're going to have to wait until I'm ready to show you."

Harry mock-sighed, which earned him her feminine laughter in return.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Though he did not know why he had to take dance lessons, Harry was all for it when he learned he would get to hold Daphne close in full view of everyone while he was taught. For that, alone, he was willing to learn.

It was also the first time he'd spent so much time in the Greengrass Estate ballroom. He had thought the room quite small for a ballroom when he'd seen it before. However, once Isabel started to give them lessons, she'd done something and Expansion Charms enlarged to room out to quite a size.

"Alright," said Isabel. "I've chosen these dimensions because, if there _is_ a Yule Ball at Hogwarts this year, then it's in the Great Hall they will hold it."

Of course, as soon as he learned each dance move and sequence, it was learned permanently. So, Isabel was able to teach them both advanced moves. In a waltz he learned moves such as the basic box step, closed and open changes, natural spin turn, the 'broken wing', the whisk, the wischer and chase, underarm turn, and others.

Once they'd been learned, they memorised sequences - or patterns - of steps. To make it easier for Daphne, Harry learned the patterns she already knew, and they practiced those for a while. But, they also learned others.

However, when Isabel decided to teach them the Tango, Harry and Daphne both seemed to be constantly blushing. It was a very - sensual - and powerful dance. If there _was_ to be a Yule Ball at Hogwarts, this year, they were going to knock the socks off the other students dancing that.

"She has to put her what _where_?" blurted Harry, when they were first learning the dance positions.

"In the embrace position, her hip is put against the _pocket_ of your hip, Harry; just outside your groin." said Isabel, before she went into a story of what the dance means. "The Tango, as it is normally done here in England, is almost lifeless when compared to the original - the Argentine Tango.

"When done properly, the Tango is a man and woman in search of each other. It is the search for an embrace - a way to be together - when the man feels that he is a male and the woman feels that she is a female, _without_ machismo. This is a dance that is supposed to express most of the emotions that might exist between a man and a woman: passion, excitement, love, romance, tenderness, sadness, anger and even silliness. The Tango does not have to be sombre; nor does it have to be so - cold - as it is done here.

"_She_ likes to be led; _he_ likes to lead. The music arouses and torments, the dance is the coupling of two people, defenceless against the world and powerless to change things. This is the best definition of the Tango as a dance, I think. And, it requires you to just _feel_ the music; let it _fill_ you; and dance accordingly, as one."

Once he was able to just relax into the music, Harry found Isabel hadn't led them astray. Once you allowed the music to guide you - its rise and fall; its emotion - the two of you danced as one with the music. You forgot all that was happening outside of the two of you.

They finally stopped after four hours. To both teens the last two felt as if a mere ten minutes had passed.

"Wow!" said Harry. "That was..."

"... quite intense," said Daphne staring back in to Harry's eyes.

"Yes," he replied.

"That was truly magical, children," said Isabel. "You moved as if you were of one mind, one soul."

"It - felt that way," said Harry. "It's own kind of magic."

"One mind, one soul, one heart, one goal," said Daphne softly.

"Yes - well - we shall practice more, tomorrow," said Isabel, shaking herself out of her own thoughts. "I'm truly interested in seeing how you fare with other, similar dances. Perhaps you can do that with the Viennesse Waltz, too."

All three left the ballroom lost to their own thoughts.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Pettigrew turned away in disgust as he saw the large green snake begin to swallow, whole, the body of Bertha Jorkins. A forty-something witch from the British Ministry who had been holidaying in Albania; and whom Pettigrew met at an inn in the local magical community while awaiting a delivery of unicorn blood.

After he discovered she worked for the British Ministry of Magic he cast upon her another quick Imperious Curse, and took her back to his master. He hoped she'd be able to provide more recent information on the goings on in magical Britain.

And that she did. Riddle learned she'd been Memory Charmed by Barty Crouch Senior as she'd discovered his son, Barty Crouch Junior, was being held there under the Imperious Curse. He also learned that Hogwarts would be hosting the Tri-Wizard Tournament, this year. And the date of the final task occurred on the late afternoon early evening just three days after the summer solstice. It was also the evening of a full moon.

The night was chosen so the spectators would have sufficient light so they could see over the hedges of the maze in the third task. But, it also tied in perfectly for the date of a ritual Riddle could perform to see himself resurrected.

Wormtail, you have done very well," said Riddle. "Miss Jorkins provided us with some very important pieces of information. Information, which will aid me in my resurrection.

"Once Nagini has finished devouring her meal, we must make haste back to Britain. And there's not much time to do so."

"But, master; the aurors are searching for me," said Pettigrew. "If I use too much or too powerful magic, they will be on us in minutes."

"Never fear, my ratty friend," smirked Riddle. "While they search for you, for all intents and purposes, they believe me dead. Therefore, they will not be searching for any displays of magic from me.

"So, we shall be using portkeys to shift the three of us back - home. It will take me time to rebuild my magical strength each time I create one, however. So, I admit, it will take time. But, you will not be required to carry the both us on your back all the way back."

"Thank you, master," said Pettigrew. "I feared I would not be able to carry you all that way, and I would fail you."

Riddle laughed. It was not a pleasant sound.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On one of his visits to the Black House, Harry sought his godfather out for a chat. He found him in the office going over finances.

"Sirius, got a few minutes?" he asked.

"Of course, pup," said his godfather, looking up. "Come on in and take a load off."

Harry crossed the space between the door and the chairs at the occasional table and took a seat.

"I - wanted to ask for your opinion on something," said Harry.

"A godfather's, Lord's or Marauder's question?" asked Sirius.

"Godfather's, I think," replied Harry. "It's about the - uniqueness - of the betrothal contract; and other contracts, in general."

"Go on," nodded Sirius.

"It's my understanding that betrothal contracts are not normally signed in blood; why is that?" asked Harry.

Sirius frowned and appeared quite thoughtful for a while before he replied, "I don't really know. I suppose it's because they're only betrothal contracts."

"_Only_ betrothal contracts?" asked Harry. "Betrothal contracts, at this level, also include things like the future of an Ancient House, and who will become its next Lord. That also often means near-complete control of the finances of the House. There is no 'only' when it comes to betrothal contracts."

Sirius looked a little shocked, but clearly knew Harry to be right. "I - hadn't thought of it as that important. However, you're right; it is."

Nodding, Harry said, "Blood is often used in contracts nowhere _near_ as important as a betrothal contract at this level. But, there seems to be no recent history of blood signed betrothals."

"No," said Sirius. "You're right. And, I wonder why I've not heard this sort of thing before."

Sirius seemed further thoughtful for a little while before he gave himself a bit of a shake and turned to Harry. "And what brought this on, all of a sudden?" he asked.

Harry sighed and said, "I think there's something happening between Daphne and I, that seems a little - unusual."

"Oh?" asked his godfather.

"Firstly, when we started to become close, it did not take us long to fall in love," replied Harry. "When both of us realised that is what we were feeling, I also realised it had only been less than a handful of months since we first met. That, in itself, is highly unusual.

"But, lately however, there are odd moments of time where we both feel as if we are - two halves of a single soul. I think that's about the closest I could describe it. It's quite strange."

Sirius looked back in surprise. He then thought for a few moments and asked, "Can you give me an example?"

"Sure," replied Harry. "Isabel has been teaching us dancing. She's - implied we'll need it for something at school, this year. When Daphne and I were dancing together while we were being taught the Tango, there came a period when we both felt as if we had become one person. Someone with four legs, four arms, two heads, two bodies. But also two consciousnesses inhabiting both bodies."

Giving himself a bit of further thought, he continued, "When it happens, it's as if the two halves of what makes us, us - the two halves of ourselves - have been reunited."

"I take it you've not discussed this with anyone else?" asked Sirius.

Harry just shook his head. "We think it may very well be just our imaginations. Something to do with how close we're getting. We don't - _I_ don't - want this to become something that worries Daphne's family. I want to know if this is something that's happened before; and I think it might have to do with the blood magic associated with blood quills and contracts."

Sirius nodded thoughtfully back. "I'll see if I can find any other further examples. The library, here, and at Potter Manor, should give us some inkling. However, it sounds like a something akin to a soul bond is forming between you. And they're very rare."

"Never heard of one," said Harry. "But, I have heard of a soul mate. Is it something like that?"

"In its purest sense, it's that and much more," said Sirius. "Of course, this is all speculation, on my part. As I said, they're extremely rare and I don't think I've looked into what they are since we were at Hogwarts, ourselves."

"Why'd you look into them back then?" asked Harry.

"Because your father was smitten with your mother almost from our first year," he replied with a shrug. "However, your mother didn't return his feelings. And a soul bond would have meant they both felt the same way almost right from the start."

"Well, Daphne and I didn't have that," frowned Harry. "It took us months to get - no, wait. Actually, we were starting to get close after the first couple of days."

Sirius nodded. "As I said, pup; I'll look into it."

"Thanks, Sirius," replied a grateful godson.

"Now _I've_ got something I wanted to ask _you_," said a grinning godfather.

"Oh?" asked Harry, quite curious.

"How would you like to go to the World Cup for Quidditch, this year?" the old dog asked with a twinkle in his eye.

With genuine surprise, Harry replied, "That would be - _brilliant_!"

With a nod, Sirius said, "I thought you'd be excited to go. That's why I've secured a private box for us at the match. It'll seat quite a few, so you can invite all your friends along. I'm also inviting the Greengrasses, Grangers, Remus and my young cousin, Nymphadora Tonks."

"Yeah, that would be - pardon?" asked Harry as he heard a name he didn't recognise, except to see it on the Black family tapestry. "Who's - Hang - Isn't she the daughter of your cousin, Andromeda, who was kicked out of the family?"

Sirius snorted, "You know very well she is. I have not forgotten of that incredible memory of yours."

Harry blushed. "Sorry. I get too used to hiding it, sometimes. But, why are you inviting her, _if_ I may be so bold as to ask, which I am."

Sirius grinned and whispered, "She has a 'thing' for Remus. I've not let the old wolf know, but I'm continually trying to set up situations where they bump into each other. Or, in Tonks's case, where she trips over him."

"You're playing matchmaker?" asked Harry, surprised.

Sirius grinned and nodded.

"_Daaaawwwggg!_" exclaimed Harry.

Sirius just barked with laughter.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry, Daphne and Astoria were with Neville in his new greenhouse. They were in shirt and blouse sleeves working to re-pot seedlings from their trays into small, individual pots. And while they worked, they talked. Or, Neville talked, and they listened.

Harry and he were repotting two different varieties of aconite - used in the Draught of the Living Death. While Astoria was working with daisies and ginger. They would be transferred to the other greenhouse later. Daphne was being careful and working with new bubotuber seedlings and ensuring she was staying safe wearing dragonhide gloves.

"I know this greenhouse isn't the size of the big commercial places, but I can also plant what I want here," said Neville, as they worked. "All this stuff in this greenhouse is for potion ingredients. I'm hoping I can earn a decent dollar to pay for my own studies; especially, if I want to undertake an apprenticeship in Herbology.

"Back in the old greenhouse, I've now converted that to purely fruits and vegetables for consumption within the manor; plus, some non-magical species. Gran loves the fresh fruits and vegetables as she thinks they taste a lot better. I also use my own blend of fertiliser in there. It produces better flora and tastier produce."

"You don't use the same fertilisers in both greenhouses?" asked Daphne.

Shaking his head, Neville replied, "No. I'm trying to develop a specific blend for each plant. However, I'm first looking to produce a generic one for most flora-based potions ingredients. This, we're working with now, is one part hippogriff dung, one part dragon dung, one part chicken manure and five parts bovine manure. I've also added an alkali to reduce the smell.

"I'm hoping it'll produce faster, and more fuller, growing flora. If it works it'll increase the harvest of the various plants. However, I'm not going to know that until next summer, at the earliest.

"I also don't use magical beast based fertiliser in the other greenhouse except for a small portion of dragon dung. Mainly it's a nine to one ratio of cow manure and chicken manure. The vegetables, especially, love it," he grinned.

"Bought your house elf yet?" asked Harry, while trying to tamp down a particularly difficult seedling in its new pot.

"Yeah," replied Neville. "His name's Topper, and he's currently working with Rizzy on something. And thanks for letting your house elf teach him, by the way. He's been a godsend."

"No worries, mate," replied Harry with a grin. "What are friends for? Besides, I know Rizzy is probably loving it."

"Yeah, they were both over here yesterday going through the other greenhouse," said Neville. "Rizzy made some excellent suggestions about temperature control and optimal settings. I've already adapted the temperatures to reflect that. He was talking about how if it's too hot, the fruit ends up dry and woody. But, too cold and the fruit won't grow to full size. He gave me the optimal settings."

"I'm glad he's a help," said Harry.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"Harry!" Cygnus's voice called out from downstairs. "You have a guest!"

Harry sighed and set his History of Magic assignment aside and hurried downstairs. He was greeted in the parlour by an Unspeakable in his robes.

"Croaker?" he asked the hidden form.

Croaker reached up and flipped down his hood, giving Harry a wide grin.

"Mister Potter," he said with a slight bow.

Surprised, Harry said, "It's good to see you, Sir. But, what brings you here?"

"Office; I think," said Cygnus, interrupting.

Croaker gave a slight bow and gesture. Cygnus spun about and led them both from the parlour and through to his office.

Once inside, Croaker threw up some wards before turning to them both. And Cygnus gestured them to his 'discussion table', as Harry called it.

Once all three were sitting, Croaker turned to Harry and said, "I thought it was high time I provided you with an update as to what's going on in our horcrux hunt.

"Oh, and thank you for getting out of Riddle - down in the Chamber - how many we're supposedly searching for. It's been a great help."

Harry nodded in reply.

Croaker settled himself into his seat and said, "That he even created one of those - monstrosities - is unsettling enough. That he might have created _seven_ of them is - disconcerting.

"However, we have confirmed that the diary you handed over to me was, indeed, one of those foul things. We have since found a second one; the Head of House ring for the Ancient House of Gaunt. It was discovered beneath the floorboards of where the Gaunts were last known to live; in a little shack in the woods just outside of the township of Little Hangleton. There were quite a few lethal traps and wards set about the place. And it took us quite a while to get through them. But, we eventually did, of course.

"We found a third one made of one of the lost treasures of the Founders - Hufflepuff's cup. It was in the vault of Bellatrix Lestrange in Gringotts. The goblins were _not_ amused to discover one of the _foul_ things was being stored in one of their vaults. They immediately carried out a search of the vaults of everyone else we knew to be a Death Eater; but, alas, there were no more.

"We also recently searched the Chamber of Secrets; but, found nothing of interest there. And, while at Hogwarts, we also had a look at the trophy room. Again, nothing there. However, up on the seventh floor we believe one is located. It appears to be behind a blank wall. But there are very old enchantments in place that even we cannot get through."

"Wait," said Harry, interrupting. "Seventh floor? It's not a wall opposite the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, is it?"

Croaker frowned and appeared lost in thought for a moment. He said, "Yes. I believe it is. What led you to that conclusion?"

Harry smiled and said, "That's what the elves call the Come and Go Room. It's a place that can be anything you want it to be.

"How to get in there is actually quite simple. One of the Hogwarts's house elves told me in our first year. What you have to do is walk back and forth three times along the corridor directly opposite the tapestry. While doing that, you need to think of what you want the room to be. On the third pass, a door will appear. When you then go inside what room you wanted will be there for you."

Croaker stared intently at Harry for a moment, before he asked, "You've used this - room?"

"Oh, yes," replied Harry. "My friends and I configure it into a private common room complete with couches, study carousels, potions laboratory; even a target range complete with training dummies we can use to practice spell casting. We've been using it since first year. It's dead useful.

"On Valentines Day in our first year, as a surprise for Daphne, I configured it to be a balcony overlooking the Eiffel Tower. One of my house elves, Petey, acted as maître de for a romantic dinner for two for the two of us. I did something similar for second year, a beach scene; and for this year it was Daphne who chose the theme."

"Walk up and down the corridor three times - thinking of what you want the room to be - and the door will appear on the third pass," said Croaker.

"Exactly," said Harry. "Your difficulty will be thinking of what room you want for whatever it is that the horcrux is in. I suppose - of course - you can simply ask for the room that has Tom Riddle's horcrux; but, that might just be _too_ easy."

"Thank you, Mister Potter," said Croaker. "I believe that will make things a great deal easier to get it without anyone at Hogwarts knowing we're there. I truly did not want to cause damage to the castle to get in there to get it."

"You're welcome," smiled Harry.

"Now, there's one more thing I want to check before I leave," said Croaker. "Do you mind if I scan where your scar was located?"

A little surprised, Harry said, "As long as it doesn't hurt me - no."

"It won't," said Croaker, popping his wand out of his hidden holster, standing up and taking the couple of steps across to Harry.

Harry leaned back in his chair as Croaker passed his wand over his scar muttering a long incantation under his breath. After a few seconds, he lowered his wand.

Returning to his seat he let out an almost inaudible sigh. "I suspected as much."

"What did you find?" asked Cygnus, a little worried.

"Harry's scar was the receptacle of a soul fragment," replied Croaker. "However, it definitely isn't now."

"No," said Cygnus. "When Harry's magical bindings collapsed on the night of the Sorting in 1991 it forced out the fragment right there in the Great Hall. I've shown you that memory."

"Yes," replied Croaker. "However, what you didn't know was that the shape of Harry's scar is quite telling. It's more than a scar; it's a _rune_."

"Pardon?" exclaimed Cygnus in surprise.

"It's the rune for the sun - sowulo," explained Croaker. "In divination it represents success, positive energy, increase, power, activity, fertility, and health. Its magical properties are energy, strength, success, healing and fertility.

"The sun is held sacred by almost every religion in the world. Its light and warmth symbolize life and growth and all that is good. Sowulo, like wunjo, represents success and glory. But, more specifically, the life-force and health.

"It is also very similar in shape to eihwaz - yew. In divination it represents change, initiation, confrontation of fears, turning point, death and transformation. Its magical properties bring about profound change or to ease a life transition. In modern times it represents both death and immortality; and defensive protection.

"A question I had for quite some time - well before I even met you, Mister Potter - is, how it was that the Killing Curse - a curse that does not normally leave a mark upon the body - managed to leave one on you, even if it was reflected back at Vol - Riddle. The answer is, it didn't.

"On the opposite side, above your left eye - just as the scar sat above the right eye - I can see traces of another rune. It's algiz - elk. It represents the protective urge to shelter oneself or others. It's magical properties are used in defence, warding off evil, as a shield or guardian. It can be used to channel energies.

"All three are Nordic runes and form part of Heimdall's Ætt. And, I happen to know your mother was very knowledgeable of the ancient Nordic runes. So, I'm not surprised to see them upon you.

"You did not have a scar from the Killing Curse, Mister Potter; you had a scar from what I believe is a rune - one of many - that was somehow made upon your body by your mother. For whatever reason, that one particular rune damaged your skin, leaving you the scar when the rune set was activated. And, because it was a fresh wound at the time - and that the soul fragment from Riddle found you as the nearest living being in range - it attached itself to you through the then freshly opened wound."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	59. World Cup Chaos

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Fifty Nine - World Cup Chaos**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a few days at Bones Manor with Susan and Hannah, Harry was back at Greengrass Estate and excited. They would be heading out, just after lunch, for the campground where the Quidditch World Cup was being held. The only thing he wasn't excited about was the portkey they'd have to use to get there. _Merlin_, he hated portkeys.

To use the portkey, they had to all troop outside of the wards around the Estate and up a hill on the other side. Hermione and the Grangers were with them. They arrived when there was about five minutes to go and were joined by another family, the Davises.

Turning to Daphne, Harry said, "I never realised just how _physically_ close you and Tracey lived to one another."

She smiled and said, "The benefits of wizarding transport means distance is often irrelevant."

Cygnus bent down and picked up an old hubcap and held it out to everyone. "Just a finger will do," he said. And everyone reached in just before the timer set it off.

A few moments later Harry found himself sprawled on damp grass just inside the tree-line of a small copse of trees.

With her tinkling laughter ringing in Harry's ears, Daphne bent down to help him to his feet; and was assisted by Hermione. Harry was muttering sulphurously to himself.

"Language, dear," she gently admonished him. Together, they followed the others towards a small shack.

"I don't understand you, Harry," said Hermione. "As magically powerful as you are, and you cannot manage to land properly from a portkey."

"They hate me, Hermione," he grouched. "They just hate me."

After getting directions to their campsite, and paying a small fee, the group headed over a small rise. And Harry got his first look at the grounds beyond. In the near distance he saw the most amazing sight, a huge, completely ringed by grandstands, Quidditch pitch. And it was built out in the middle of nowhere.

Surrounding it between them and the pitch were literally hundreds of small tents. Some appeared no bigger than a one person pup tent; others looked like two storied ones in the shape of an outhouse dunny; and all were very colourful.

Not realising he'd stopped until Daphne turned back to call to him, Harry had to hurry to catch up before he became lost.

They walked down between the tents through what was clearly an open designated corridor. Then, very close to the huge and imposing structure, the adults stopped.

"Ah! Here we are," said Cygnus. The man turned off the path and stepped through the flap of what looked like a tall four-person tent. The Davises stepped into a similar one alongside.

"Errr - how are we all going to fit into that?" asked Wendell.

Isabel smiled and said, "Step inside and you'll see."

Following behind the others, who all seemed to crowd inside, Harry heard gasps of amazement from the Grangers. When he stepped inside himself he could see why. The inside was much, much, bigger than the outside.

They were greeted by the Greengrass house elves, Dobby and Petey.

Petey looked up at Harry and said, "This way, Master Harry."

Surprised to see a Potter elf here, Harry just followed along behind. They went up a flight of stairs - yes, stairs - to the next floor and Petey led him to a bedroom. "This be your room, Master Harry."

"Thank you, Petey," he automatically replied.

Inside, Harry found a large canopied bed with a small wardrobe combination off to one side. Through another door, he found a small ensuite bathroom with an actual shower, toilet and hand basin. It was amazing. From outside he was sure the entire tent would be able to fit inside just his ensuite.

'I love magic,' he happily thought.

Returning back downstairs in the common room of the tent, Daphne awaited him. "There you are," she said. "What kept you?"

"My mind. I'm trying to get my head around the impossibility of this tent," he replied.

She gave him a curious look before she brightened in understanding. "Wizard space," she firmly stated. "You've seen how our trunks use wizard space - and the ballroom at home - but you've not seen it on this scale before."

"No," he replied. "I find it - a little difficult to just shrug it off, at the moment."

She nodded a little for a moment or two before asking, "Feel like having a wander around outside? The chance to mingle with so many people from so many different parts of the world doesn't come along all that often."

"Yeah, I'd like that," he said.

Together, they stepped out of the tent.

"Hang on," she said, "I'll get Tracey. From there, we'll see who else we can track down."

While waiting outside as Daphne ducked into the next tent, Harry took a look around. It all looked really peculiar. He saw a man walking past wearing a woman's terry cloth nightgown and wearing a pair of rubber boots; another was wearing tie-dyed jeans and a striped business shirt with white cuffs. 'Didn't those shirts go out of style a decade ago?' he thought.

While waiting on Daphne and Tracey he heard a shout of, "Oi! - Harry!"

Turning, he saw Neville with Hannah and Susan hurrying over.

"Hi guys!" he called back.

As they came up, Neville asked, "Where's everyone else?"

Indicating the Davis's tent he said, "Daphne just went into the Davis's to get Tracey..." then, indicating the Greengrass tent, "... and Hermione is still in there."

Susan and Hannah gave him a brief hug each, before they ducked into the Greengrass tent, probably to track down Hermione. Looking back at Neville, Harry asked, "Seen anyone else we know?"

Gesturing further down the lane towards the pitch, Neville replied, "Sirius and Remus are sharing a tent down there. Remus is still recovering from the full moon of a couple of days ago. I'm in with the Abbotts, as is Susan, in a tent between here and there.

"From what I can gather, this entire row is all Ancient Houses - Well, British Ancient Houses, at any rate. Backed on to us are the Australians, New Zealanders and Pacific Islander Ancient and Great Houses, and the American Great and Senior Houses are on the other side of them." Gesturing across the other side, he said, "Over there are the Europeans. There's Ancient, Elder, Great, Major, Senior, Venerable, and other style Houses that are similar to our own Ancients."

"Wow!" said Harry, impressed. "How does anyone keep track of them all?"

"That's what the Department of International Magical Cooperation is responsible for," grinned Neville. "They keep track of them. Personally, I think it'd just give me an ongoing and constant headache."

Harry grinned back just as Susan and Hannah popped out with Hermione in tow. "Ready?" asked Susan.

Turning to look at her, Harry was just about to say they were waiting on Daphne and Tracey when both girls came out of the other tent. "Ah!" he said, instead. "Anyone know if Luna's here?"

"She's off with her father searching for some - thing," replied Hermione. "I think they went to some Scandinavian country."

"Sweden, I think," said Susan.

"Then, this looks like all of us," said Daphne with a grin. "Let's see what we can see; and who else we might find here."

Harry, for one, shrugged and smiled back.

Neville, indicating the way away with a noble gesture and a courtly bow, said, "Then, after you, my ladies."

Harry and Neville walked behind the girls and chatted about what they were seeing around them. The girls were looking around. When they stopped to ask someone for directions to the 'market' the girls headed off that way.

After a little while watching them, Harry said to Neville, "Nev? You're supposed to be my bro', right?"

"Right," said Neville in that drawl that says he was wondering where Harry was going with his question.

"Then, how come you've never told me how the good the view is from back here?" asked Harry indicating the tight attire of the girls ahead, and grinning at his mate.

Neville grinned back and said, "Because Hogwarts robes don't give as good a view?"

The two boys snickered at one another. The bad news for them was that Hannah overheard at least some of what they said to one another.

She suddenly spun around and glared back at the two of them.

"Uh-oh!" said Neville quietly.

"And just what are you two reprobates talking about?" she asked ominously.

"Errr - We're just admiring the view?" said Harry.

"Yes! - Errr - Lots to see!" stuttered Neville.

They might have got away with it if both boys weren't blushing profusely and looking chagrined. After that, they were sent ahead.

"What did they do?" Hermione quietly asked the blonde 'Puff.

Hannah smirked and replied, "They were staring at our - tushies."

Hermione blushed and quietly stammered, "Oh! - I'm - Oh!"

Hannah just grinned back as her Gryffindor friend tried to get her head around that bit of information.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After an afternoon of running about the Group returned to their respective tents and would meet up together again in the box Sirius had secured for them. Apparently, it was in the box directly underneath the one that would contain Minister Fudge, the Minister of Magic from Bulgaria, and a couple of other guests.

After a hurried dinner lovingly provided by the Greengrass house elves and Dobby, the Greengrasses, Grangers and Harry hurried along the path towards the tent where Sirius and Remus were staying. There, they waited for the others to arrive.

Once everyone was there, Sirius led them to a ticket gate and on up into the tribunes completely surrounding the pitch. The noise was already quite loud.

Once in their 'box' and everyone was comfortable, they waited. Harry opened up the bag he was carrying and handed out omnioculars to everyone.

"Harry?" asked Sirius, when a pair was passed to him. "Where'd you get these?"

"From a vendor in the market area this afternoon," replied Harry. "I've checked them all to ensure they work. And these are all the deluxe pairs."

Sirius laughed and started using his. He also showed Hermione how to use them while Cygnus showed Wendell and Isabel showed Monica.

When it felt like they were waiting forever, they heard the opening announcement from just above them.

"Ladies and gentlemen - welcome! Welcome to the final of the four hundred and twenty-second Quidditch World Cup!"

The spectators screamed and clapped. Thousands of flags waved, adding their discordant national anthems to the racket. The huge blackboard opposite them was wiped clear of its last message (Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans - A Risk With Every Mouthful!) and now showed BULGARIA: 0, IRELAND: 0.

"And now, without further ado, allow me to introduce - the Bulgarian National Team Mascots!"

The right-hand side of the stands, which was a solid block of scarlet, roared its approval

"Veela!" cried Sirius. "Ladies, hold on to the menfolk!"

"What are veel -?" Harry started to ask.

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry's question was answered for him. Veela were women - the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen - except that they weren't - they couldn't be - human. Harry was puzzled for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they _could_ be.

But then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human - in fact, he almost stopped worrying about anything at all. The veela had started to dance, and Harry's mind felt a bit cloudy - confused.

As the veela danced faster and faster, his confusion deepened. He felt like he should do something very impressive. He turned to Daphne and asked, "What's going on?"

"It's the Veela, Harry" said Daphne's voice as if from a long way off.

The music stopped. Harry blinked. It took a moment for everything to snap back into proper focus. Next to him, Hannah was giggling at Neville, who had whipped his upper robes off and was now blushing while he hurriedly pulled them back on. Sirius had been held by Tracey and Susan, who had been trying to stop him jumping off the balcony, but was now looking a little sheepish. Monica had held Wendell but he was apparently unaffected by it, and Isabel had held Cygnus with Astoria's help.

Angry yells were filling the stadium. The crowd didn't want the veela to go. Harry was with them. He wasn't supporting either team, but those veela sure did something to his insides.

"And now," roared the voice from above, "kindly put your wands in the air - for the Irish National Team Mascots!"

Next moment, what seemed to be a great green-and-gold comet came zooming into the stadium. It did one circuit of the stadium, then split into two smaller comets, each hurtling toward the goal posts. A rainbow suddenly arced across the field, connecting the two balls of light. The crowd oooohed and aaaaahed, as though at a fireworks display. Now the rainbow faded and the balls of light reunited and merged; they had formed a great shimmering shamrock, which rose up into the sky and began to soar over the stands. Something like golden rain seemed to be falling from it. As the shamrock soared over them, heavy gold coins rained from it, bouncing off the floorboards and seats of the box above them.

When he next saw the shamrock, Harry realized it was actually comprised of thousands of tiny little bearded men with red vests, each carrying a minute lamp of gold or green.

"Leprechauns!" said Cygnus over the tumultuous applause of the crowd, many of whom were still fighting and rummaging around under their chairs to retrieve the gold.

The great shamrock dissolved, the leprechauns drifted down onto the field on the opposite side from the veela, and settled themselves cross-legged to watch the match.

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, kindly welcome - the Bulgarian National Quidditch Team! I give you - Dimitrov!"

A scarlet-clad figure on a broomstick, moving so fast it was blurred, shot out onto the field from an entrance far below, to wild applause from the Bulgarian supporters.

"Ivanova!"

A second scarlet-robed player zoomed out.

"Zograf! Levski! Vulchanov! Volkov! Aaaaaaand - Krum!"

Viktor Krum was thin, dark, and sallow-skinned, with a large curved nose and thick black eyebrows. He looked like an overgrown bird of prey. It was hard to believe he was only eighteen.

"And now, please greet - the Irish National Quidditch Team!"

"Presenting - Connolly! Ryan! Troy! Mullet! Moran! Quigley! Aaaaaand - Lynch!"

Seven green blurs swept onto the field. Harry spun a small dial on the side of his Omnioculars and slowed the players down enough to read the word "Firebolt" on each of their brooms and see their names, embroidered in silver, upon their backs.

"And here, all the way from Egypt, our referee, acclaimed Chairwizard of the International Association of Quidditch, Hassan Mostafa!"

A small and skinny wizard, completely bald but with a moustache to rival Uncle Vernon's, wearing robes of pure gold to match the stadium, strode out onto the field. A silver whistle was protruding from under the moustache, and he was carrying a large wooden crate under one arm, his broomstick under the other.

Harry spun the speed dial on his Omnioculars back to normal, watching closely as Mostafa mounted his broomstick and kicked the crate open - four balls burst into the air: the scarlet Quaffle, the two black Bludgers, and (Harry saw it for the briefest moment, before it sped out of sight) the minuscule, winged Golden Snitch.

With a sharp blast on his whistle, Mostafa shot into the air after the balls.

"Theeeeeeeey're OFF!" screamed the announcer. "And it's Mullet! Troy! Moran! Dimitrov! Back to Mullet! Troy! Levski! Moran!"

It was Quidditch as Harry had never seen it played before. He was pressing his Omnioculars so hard to his eyes that they were cutting into the bridge of his nose. The speed of the players was incredible - the Chasers were throwing the Quaffle to one another so fast that Bagman only had time to say their names.

Harry spun the slow dial on the right of his Omnioculars again, pressed the play-by-play button on the top, and he was immediately watching in slow motion, while glittering purple lettering flashed across the lenses and the noise of the crowd pounded against his eardrums.

The game spun up faster and faster with all players 'lifting their game'. However, Ireland was drawing further and further ahead; until, eventually...

"He's got it - Krum's got it - it's all over!" shouted Sirius.

Krum, his red robes shining with blood from his nose where he'd been hit by a bludger earlier, was rising gently into the air, his fist held high, a glint of gold in his hand.

The scoreboard was flashing BULGARIA: 160, IRELAND: 170 across the crowd, who didn't seem to have realized what had happened. Then, slowly, as though a huge jet was revving up, the rumbling from the Ireland supporters grew louder and louder and erupted into screams of delight.

"IRELAND WINS!" the announcer shouted, who like the Irish, seemed to be taken aback by the sudden end of the match.

"KRUM GETS THE SNITCH - BUT IRELAND WINS - good Lord, I don't think any of us were expecting that!"

"He was very brave, wasn't he?" Hermione said, leaning forward to watch Krum land as a swarm of mediwizards blasted a path through the battling leprechauns and veela to get to him. "He looks a terrible mess."

Harry put his Omnioculars to his eyes again. It was hard to see what was happening below, because leprechauns were zooming delightedly all over the field, but he could just make out Krum, surrounded by mediwizards. He looked surlier than ever and refused to let them mop him up. His team members were around him, shaking their heads and looking dejected; a short way away, the Irish players were dancing gleefully in a shower of gold descending from their mascots.

Flags were waving all over the stadium, the Irish national anthem blared from all sides; the veela were shrinking back into their usual, beautiful selves now, though looking dispirited and forlorn.

"And as the Irish team performs a lap of honour, flanked by their mascots, the Quidditch World Cup itself is brought into the Top Box!" roared the announcer.

"Let's have a really loud hand for the gallant losers - Bulgaria!" shouted the announcer.

And, above them, they heard the steps of the seven defeated Bulgarian players. The crowd below was applauding appreciatively. Harry could see thousands and thousands of omniocular lenses flashing and winking in their direction.

Sirius stood up and said, "Shall we go? We might be able to beat the crowds back out to the tents. We won't see anything else now."

Cygnus and Wendell both nodded, as did Monica and Isabel a few moments later.

While they were leaving, the Irish team had entered to collect their prize and then left the box to perform another lap of honour on their brooms.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The group were able to return quickly to their tents. However, they were, by no means, the only ones who left before all the announcements were finished. There was already a bit of an exodus leading out of the stadium.

Though he was excited watching the game, it had still proven to be a day full of excitement and movement. So, Harry and the other children were soon sent early to bed.

"Harry! Wake up!" came the voice. At first, Harry thought he'd been hearing things.

Then a house elf popped in and said, "Young Master must be getting up. There be trouble and you must leave."

He quickly donned his dark jeans, t-shirt, wand holster and lightweight dark jacket; before then quickly pulling on his trainers. Leaving everything else, knowing the house elves would take care of it, Harry ducked out and down to the common room.

"What's going on?" he asked, quite concerned.

Remus came in through the flaps and said, "There's some trouble going on within the campground not far from here. It looks like Death Eaters. I'm here to get you all out of here."

Harry quickly looked around and saw that Cygnus was the only one missing by the time Remus stopped speaking. "Where's Cygnus?" asked Harry.

"He's off helping others to get away, and see if he can deal with the Death Eaters," replied the old wolf. "Now, come on. It's time to leave." And he held the tent flap open while everyone filed out.

It was pandemonium outside the tent. Harry could see a couple of large fires burning not far from them. There was lots of shouting and screaming. People were fleeing up and over the rise towards the copse they arrived in yesterday.

As they started to move in the same direction, Harry heard the screams of a little girl. Instead of following everyone else, he headed that way. He thought he'd grab the little girl and carry her over the hill to safety.

Moving swiftly and using his recently honed seeker skills of dodging and tracking, Harry zeroed in on the sound. A little girl was lying next to a tent, injured. It appeared her arm was broken.

As he moved towards her, he stepped through a gap between the tents. That's when he saw the robes and masks. The robes were over-robes in flat black; but the masks were of hideously twisted bone white faces.

He didn't care if people wanted to play dress-up. There was enough of that sort of thing before the game. But three of the half dozen masked people had other people levitated into the air. And those people appeared writhing in agony.

Harry quickly cast a Sleep Charm on the little girl so she'd no longer be in pain. He then stepped out and quite aways from her into the clear line of those - masked mongrels coming toward him. He also quickly reviewed the Glamour Charms he read while he lived at The Leaky Cauldron, and cast a few to alter his appearance.

He ran through his spell chains and gathered magical energy. Very soon, leaves, other debris and untrammelled blades of grass swirled around him. With wand in hand he began to calmly stalk towards the masked mongrels.

One looked up and saw him calmly walking towards them. He, or she, said something to one of the others and they both laughed.

The one who first saw Harry raised his wand and cast. Harry heard the cry, "_Diffindo_!" and a blood red beam of spell fire headed straight for him. He was still far enough away, he could easily dodge; so he merely took a step to the side as the spell headed towards him. More of a jink, really. And allowed it to slip past him.

The masked one cast another spell. And this one Harry just batted away, not even breaking stride.

Then it happened. The mask one raised his wand high and brought down with a cry of "_Avada Kedavra!_"

Harry sidestepped the Killing Curse and let rip. He had the caster down, bound and out in seconds. His - friends - did not even know something had happened to him until he toppled to the ground in front of one of them. The masked one's wand was on the ground at Harry's feet.

Harry wanted those masks off, so he tried to summon them. It didn't work. So, he just cut loose with spellchains.

It would have very quickly turned into a five against one odds, except the three who had the three people levitated weren't paying attention to what was going on around them; so sure in their safety with their friends, they were. It was their folly.

Harry had the second man down - it was definitely a male voice casting out loud - bound and out before a third could join in. He then hit the man who had the little girl levitated in the back of the head with a bludgeoner, and hope he killed the mongrel. A quick Levitation Charm and Harry made sure the little girl reached the ground safely.

However, the little girl suddenly disappearing from the skies alerted the other three that something was wrong. The other two who had people in the air dropped them. Harry was only able to catch the little girl, and hoped the man didn't break his neck, or something when he landed.

Harry exchanged spellfire with another. This time he missed with the Incarceration Charm but tagged the caster in his wand arm with a Severing Charm which _almost_ severed the arm completely.

As the man screamed in pain, Harry heard someone off to his left shout, "_Morsmordre!_". A green beam shot into the sky and flashed like a small ball of green lightning. The clouds roiled.

Where the masked mongrels were, one of the still standing ones suddenly bent down and grabbed one of the tied up ones before disappearing with the body in a portkey swirl. The others quickly followed. However, they left the one Harry first tagged. He was behind them and obviously forgotten.

Harry looked to where he saw the green ball lightning and saw what appeared to be a huge smoky cloud in the form of a skull with a snake moving and weaving in and out of the eye sockets and open mouth.

He stalked over to the bound and unconscious man, bent down and ripped the facemask off with his off hand. He didn't know who it was but he looked a little familiar.

He was trying to review his memories to see if he knew the man when there was a couple of cracks of apparation arrival and a bark of "Aurors!" from behind him.

Turning around he saw two men wearing auror robes. One had his wand pointed straight at Harry. "Drop your wand!" he barked.

"What the bloody hell took you so long?" Harry barked back, holding his wand down and to the side. "Have to wait to finish your cup of tea, did you? _Pathetic!_

"Now get over here!" he snarled. "I've caught one of the mongrels but the rest portkeyed away." And Harry flicked the mask at the feet of the auror who was still aiming his wand at him.

"I said, drop your wand," the auror barked again.

Harry sighed and made a mocking show of dropping his wand. "Happy? Mister I-Think-I'll-Take-My-Own-Sweet-Time-Getting-Here Man?" he snarked.

The auror glared back but didn't respond as he summoned Harry's wand to his hand. He then drew a silver shield from his robes in his off hand and spoke into it. "I've caught one of the culprits," he said.

"_You_ - didn't catch shit, bobby. _I_ did!" snarked Harry.

A couple more cracks of apparation and two more people had arrived. One was Aunt Amelia.

"Johnson; report!" she barked.

"I've caught one of the culprits, Ma'am!" the idiot replied, indicating Harry.

"_Merlin!_ You're an idiot!" snarked Harry before he turned to Amelia. "Hello, Aunt Amelia," he said, calmer. "This piece of trash at my feet was one of the masked morons responsible for some of this - carnage here."

Amelia glared at him for a few moments before recognition dawned on her face. "_Harry?_" she cried.

"In the flesh and glamoured up," replied Harry.

Amelia gave her wand a quick pass over him and a muttered, "_Finite!_" Harry felt the glamour fade away.

"_Harry!_" she sighed almost plaintively. "_What_ in Merlin's name are you doing here?"

"I heard a little girl screaming in fear and pain," he replied. "She's over there under a Sleeping Charm, by the way," he gestured to where she was. "That's when I saw these masked morons," he gestured at the man still bound and unconscious at his feet, "casting spells willy-nilly."

Gesturing at the three people on the ground behind them, "They had those three levitated in the air and it looked like they were torturing them. I was _not_ going to stand by and allow it to happen any longer.

"I managed to get three of the six, but the remaining three managed to grab two of the one's I'd already taken down and portkeyed away with them," he replied. "This one they forgot, though," he said lightly kicking the still bound and unconscious man in the ribs.

One of the uniformed aurors looked at the man and said, "That's Regulus Crabbe!"

Amelia sighed and said, "Harry; it's not your job to go after the bad guys. You could have been seriously hurt; if not killed!"

"Aunt Amelia," said Harry. "The wartime British Prime Minister, Winston Churchill, once said, 'One ought never to turn ones back on a threatened danger and try to run away from it. If you do that, you will double the danger. But if you meet it promptly and without flinching, you will reduce the danger by half. Never run away from anything. Never!' I happen to believe the same creed."

"It's still not your job!" she snapped.

"And the people whose job it was _weren't here_!" he bit back. "_Ten minutes_ it took them to get here. That's _pathetic_ for a team that's capable of instant travel. You _really_ need to give some consideration to establishing a ready reaction force of aurors who can _far_ more promptly respond to these sorts of incidences."

She glared back at him for a few moments before she relaxed and sighed. "I cannot argue against that," she said much more calmly. "However, your family are worried about you. Use your ring and go to your family. I'll stop by tomorrow to talk to you, alright?"

Harry nodded and held his hand out to the auror who summoned his wand off the ground. Resheathing it he said, "The masked moron's wand is over there on the ground." And indicated the area. "You'll find one of his last spells was the Killing Curse."

Amelia whirled around to look where Harry indicated and stalked over. She quickly spotted it and levitated it before dropping it in an evidence bag.

Returning, she said, "Got it. Now, you, _scram_!"

Harry lifted his ring to his lips and lightly pressed on it. With a whispered, "Potter Manor" he was gone.

As soon as he arrived in the Entrance Hall at his rightful home he went to the fireplace and floo'ed to Greengrass Estate.

After being yelled and shouted at, especially from a tearful Daphne, he explained what happened. Soon after, he and the other children were sent off to bed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Late the next morning, Aunt Amelia stopped by and collected his memory of the events. She also wanted to hear more of his idea of a ready reaction force.

"It's quite simple, actually," said Harry, as he talked to her at the informal dining table over a cup of tea. "You set up, for instance, four teams. Rotate them in shifts of eight hours around the clock - eight hours 'on'; twenty four hours 'off'. That's one example.

"Their _sole_ job is to be ready at a moment's notice to go to a scene. And they go in ready to start casting in a hostile environment as soon as they arrive. These four teams have only the one job. They do not tend to issues relating to a shopkeeper catching a thief, or investigating why little Johnnie ran away, or similar. And they do not patrol. As such, they are - for the duration of their shift - armoured-up and ready to deploy. It should take them no more than _ten seconds_ from the time the alert comes in, to them apparating away.

"The only thing that should slow them down is intelligence. That is, what it is they're facing, where they'll be facing it, and how they're to face it. Everything else is irrelevant until they're on the ground.

"They're combat specialists. They stay together and apart from the rest of your auror force, who do more normal policing duties. They train together, eat together, work together. If an incident involving a spell battle is happening, they go in fast and hot, ready to take down everyone. They have the attitude of 'stun first and ask questions later'. None of this calling out 'Aurors!' first nonsense.

"And, if the bad guys are using lethal force, they must be prepared to use the same right back. This is what the muggle police forces of countries right around the world have learned over the past fifty years. It took them _all_ losing many hundreds of police officers each, before they _finally_ realised this is what they needed to do.

"Do you understand?" asked Harry

Amelia sighed and said, "I'd _never_ get the funding or the permission from the Minister's office to do it, though."

"Think about this," said Harry. "How many lives would have been saved in the last stoush with Riddle if you had these teams established? How many were lost due to a slow response time?"

"Countless," she sighed.

"You know as well as I do that the prophecy means Riddle will find a way back," sighed Harry. "So, what will be your role in all this? As much as I will be his primary target, you're also on his radar."

Though she did not understand the term 'radar', she understood its intent.

"Fudge is the problem right now," she said. "And his little toady, Madam Umbridge. Fudge is firmly in Malfoy's pocket. We have to get rid of him and replace him with someone who's incorruptible. However, as soon as we do that, Malfoy will - take measures - to see them replaced by yet another puppet he can put in his pocket."

"Then, how can one go towards donating a hefty sum to the auror department to ensure more aurors are permanently hired?" asked Harry. "And to make sure the money is not - shall we say - siphoned off onto other projects?"

"It won't work," she smiled. "As soon as I submit a budget - and I have to - the Minister will know of the donation. There's no way to slip something like that through. Thank you for the thought, though."

Thinking hard, Harry had a sudden idea. "What's the law regarding private security forces?" he asked.

"They're illegal," replied Amelia, before she delayed a little and said, "Mostly."

"Mostly?" asked Harry.

"As a Head of an Ancient House you're permitted a team of bodyguards," she replied.

"How many?" asked Harry, wondering if he'd found a loophole.

"There isn't an actual number, if I recall," she replied. "But they must be there for bodyguard purposes."

"And if I wanted - say - one hundred bodyguards?" he asked.

"You'd have to be prepared to argue for a need for them," she replied.

"Hmmm," he said. "Well, there's me, my betrothed, three immediate members of her family, my godfather, my honourary uncle, my godbrother, my honourary grandmother, my two protectees, three family members of my protectees, and that's before I even start on my friends and their families. That's fourteen.

"Of course, I cannot expect a bodyguard to be in top form twenty four hours a day. They need to be in teams of four - no - five. That's a cadre of bodyguards seventy strong right there.

"Now, I cannot allow there to be any problems with my bodyguard cadre not working well with the aurors. They should be able to get on and understand each other's - ways of doing things. So, of course, I should be formally requesting of the Head of the DMLE the opportunity for my bodyguards to spend time working together with her aurors; learning how each other do things.

"Of course, I cannot ask the DMLE to send its busy aurors to my bodyguards. I'll just have to send my bodyguards to work with the DMLE wherever the DMLE are. If, of course, you have the room to put them. Would that work for you?"

Amelia burst out laughing and replied, "I have no idea if it will work or not. But I'll find out how many bodyguards you may be limited to having. I don't think anyone's asked before."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	60. Announcement

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty - Announcement**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"Wormtail!" the breezy, malevolent voice loudly hissed.

"Yes, Master?" asked the simpering Pettigrew.

"How goes the hunt for Barty Junior?" asked baby-Riddle.

"I've sent owls, Master," replied Pettigrew. "I expect to hear from him soon."

"Good," sneered the deformed baby. "He, at least, can help me do something about this place."

The place was the old Riddle Manor. Pettigrew finally managed to get himself, baby-Riddle and the snake, Nagini, to the old manor only a few days earlier. The plan was to go and get Crouch the Younger from Crouch Manor. However, when Pettigrew went in to find him, he was already gone. According to Crouch the Elder, who Pettigrew had managed to ambush and place the Imperious Curse upon, he'd escaped during the Quidditch World Cup only the evening earlier. A quick Memory Charm later and Pettigrew was gone with Crouch the Elder none the wiser.

"Get me my potion," sneered baby-Riddle. "This body requires sustenance."

"Yes, Master," said Pettigrew. He quickly went into the small potions laboratory he had created to get the snake venom potion he was continually brewing for his master; and breathed a sigh of relief. His days as a Marauder, developing pranking potions, were standing him in good stead.

At least it meant he could get out of that room and not see the sight of that bloody big snake slowly digesting the old muggle man; the man who had come upon them a few nights ago in this very manor. For someone who often ate rubbish while on the run from the aurors, just to survive, Pettigrew did not have the stomach for that sort of thing. He knew that, one wrong move on his part in carrying out the tasks assigned to him from his master, _he_ would be a future meal for the snake.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The last week before the Express, The Greengrasses and Grangers went together to Diagon Alley. As with second year compared to first year, fourth year used many of the same books as third year. So, there was only a need to pick up '_The Standard Book of Spells Grade 4_' by the same author as all their previous transfiguration texts, Miranda Goshawk. Harry wondered what book they were supposed to pick up for Defence, but the equipment list said the book would be provided by the new Professor.

However, Harry needed to buy a set of formal robes for a 'possible' Yule Ball at Hogwarts, and a new set of school robes. As well as having a growth spurt over the past six months he'd also begun to fill out across the shoulders and chest.

The group had continued to exercise with Wendell having organised home gyms for them all. The ones he organised were called 'universal' gyms that were kept in a compact steel powdercoated frame. Harry loved his, plus the extra weights he'd purchased in free weights. He liked how it made his biceps 'beef' up.

He knew Daphne liked what it was doing to his body, and he was quite proud of that, as she'd walked into his room once while he was bared to the waist. She took one look at him, blushed, and fled the room. She never said a word. That Harry spent the next five minutes before the large mirror in the room flexing his muscles was between him and the mirror; and, unlike some, the mirror wasn't that much of a chatterbox.

However, the extra bulk meant Harry needed a whole new set of school robes. So, to Madam Malkin's they went. Daphne only needed new blouses and school jumper. She'd only 'filled out' in one place for which, when he noticed, Harry was _very_ grateful.

Daphne was not so much into the free weights, as she told him it was unseemly for a Lady to look so 'muscley'. However, based on advice from Monica, she made a lot of use of the 'cardio' equipment: the rowing machine, the resistance bike and the treadmill. She often used the equipment while Harry was working with the weights.

After leaving the store with their new uniforms, Isabel asked, "Where to next?"

"How about we start at the bottom of the Alley and work our way back up?" suggested Monica.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

He was sitting at a back booth in the Warlock's Curse, a tavern in the depths of Knockturn Alley. He appeared to be a non-descript man. One who did not stand out from the crowd. He was neither tall nor short, fat nor skinny, average.

He had been sitting in the tavern for almost an hour. As the time was approaching the hour mark he knew he would soon have to leave. The potion he'd self administered to himself would fail at the one hour mark.

With ten minutes to go, on the dot of the time he expected to meet his - contact - one of the patrons sitting at another table, rose and approached him. Just before he rose, the man donned a certain lapel pin. It was a skull and bones. He approached the table of the first man - who was also wearing the same pin - and sat down opposite.

"That's an interesting pin you're wearing," the first man said.

"As is yours," replied the other, speaking his part of the code phrase. "I've been watching you."

"I figured as much," said the first, before then leaning slightly forward. "He's back and wants to see you."

"And who would that be?"

The first man carefully reached into the inside pocket of his robes, behind the lapel pin, and withdrew a card. The second man tensed a little as the hand disappeared, but calmed when all it brought out was what looked like a muggle business card.

The first placed the card on the table and slid it over to the second. The second could see there was yet another lapel pin pinned to it. This time it was of a small golden snake.

The first said, "He - congratulates you on gaining your freedom and wants to welcome you back. This is a timed portkey that will take you to him at 7.00pm this evening. It will only work if you are standing at the public portkey point in Diagon. It's up to you. However, he will not be happy with you if you do not come."

The first carefully rose from his seat and hurried from the tavern.

The second watched him go before turning to scan the room. He could not detect anyone watching, or paying even the slightest attention.

He picked up the card and dropped it into his own inside robe pocket. Then rose and left through the same door. The first was already gone.

Hiding behind a rain barrel, a small brown rat watched the second as he stood just outside the door and looked around. When the second then hurried off, donning an invisibility cloak as he did so, the rat made his own way deeper into the Alley to portkey away.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At precisely 7.00pm that night the second man was exactly where he was supposed to be. He withdrew his wand, took a deep breath and set himself ready for a battle. With the expected tug in the middle of his navel he was away.

He arrived on the side of a hill, just up from a graveyard and nearby small wood. He looked around not seeing anyone. A disused Manor building sat near the peak of a hill behind him.

"You're alone," a voice quietly said.

He spun around with a ready curse on his lips and the tip of his wand glowing. He saw a middle aged man standing there, as if he had no care in the world. "Wormtail," he half sneered.

"Hello, Barty," replied Pettigrew. "Now put your wand away and come with me. You know the master does not appreciate anyone having their wand in their hand in his presence." And Pettigrew simply turned away and walked up the hill.

Bartemius 'Barty' Crouch Junior followed him.

Pettigrew led him into the entry of the manor and up a flight of stairs. At the top, Pettigrew turned to him and said, "Wait here until you're called." Not waiting for a response, he turned and walked through a door.

A few moments later, Pettigrew was back. "The master will see you now. Leave your wand in your pocket or you forfeit your life." And he gestured for Crouch to precede him inside.

Crouch walked in and saw a single wing-backed armchair set before the fire and off to one side.

The high pitched whisper-like voice he remembered of his master called, "Come in, Barty. And kneel before me."

Crouch quickly moved around to kneel a few feet shy of the chair with his head bowed. "Thank you, master, for calling me. I have awaited this summons for many years."

The high pitched voice cruelly laughed and said, "One of my rare faithful followers, you are, Barty. Now, lift your eyes and see what has become of me."

Crouch looked up. As his eyes lifted he was surprised not to see a pair of feet on the floor before the chair, but it was only for a moment. He lifted his head further and was shocked at the sight of the deformed baby-like thing before him. However, there was no doubt this was his master. The eyes spoke true.

"Master!" Crouch spoke in a horrified voice. "What has become of you?"

Baby-Riddle cruelly laughed again and said, "This is the first stage of my resurrection from the wraith like form I inhabited for many long years. Between you and Wormtail, I shall once more gain my former form.

Crouch bowed his head and said, "I am your servant, master. What ever I can do, you have only to ask."

"Of course, young Barty," sneered baby-Riddle. "And I have a most important mission for you to achieve. It will also take you almost nine months to complete."

"I am honoured you would task me with such a role," replied Crouch. "When may I begin?"

With another cruel laugh baby-Riddle said, "Listen carefully, my faithful friend; this is what I need you to do..."

He spoke long into the night.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As with all things, summer ended and the 1st of September was once more upon them. This year was their fourth year. For Astoria, it was her second; and for Luna, her third.

This year, the 1st of September fell on a Sunday, so the Grangers came along to make a bit of a day of it. They spent the first part of the morning at the Estate before they had to leave. They floo'ed from Greengrass Estate to the Old Midland Grand Hotel and walked over to Kings Cross Station.

Walking through the barrier onto Platform 9 ¾, the teens headed for the back of the train, but were also keeping an eye out for their friends in amongst the crowds. Eventually they found them, as expected, near the rear most carriage. Neville, Susan, Hannah and Luna were already there. That meant they were just awaiting Tracey. She arrived less than five minutes later.

Harry and Neville were, once more, tasked with loading the trunks onto the train. Even Luna batted her eyes at the boys and asked - sweetly. Harry just rolled his eyes and sighed before grabbing it, levitating it, and taking it on board to store in the overhead space.

At least both boys only had to make two trips, each. They could both now levitate one on top of the other and carry two at a time. They did manage to garner quite a few speculative looks from other students and not a few guardians while they did it. Students with only a third year level of education shouldn't have been able to manage it. However, the fact Harry and Neville had killed in combat a thousand year old thirty-plus foot long basilisk had most people thinking they both were just that powerful.

After the second four trunks were stowed, Harry waited for Neville in the passageway and was about to cast the Door Sealing Charm on the door when Neville beat him to it.

Neville turned back with a smirk and said, "C'mon, Harry. We can't have you being the only one to cast all the important Charms for us, can we?"

Harry grinned and shrugged back before heading back off the train to say their goodbyes.

After it had been a few minutes after the five minute warning whistle was sounded, the Eight trooped back on board and into their compartment. This time, Harry had a new sign, which he showed Luna:

**TRY KNOCKING**

**'The Eight'**

On the trip back to Hogwarts, they actually did get a knock on the door. Harry was expecting it might have been the twins. Instead, it was Astoria.

"Harry?" she asked sweetly. "Can you come and meet some friends of mine? They were too nervous to approach you, last year; and want to meet you."

"What," said Harry, from where he sat near the window. "I'm like a prize-winning pig, or something; am I?"

But, the way he said it, Astoria could tell he was just having fun with her. But, she then got him right back when she replied, "No, Harry. More like prize-winning beefcake contracted to the House Greengrass for stud services."

Harry just stared at the smirking little twelve year old in shock; his jaw hanging open, gobsmacked.

"Tori!" exclaimed Daphne, near scandalised.

Astoria just stood there with a self-satisfied smirk on her face knowing she'd won that round.

The rest hesitated with their own levels of surprise for a few moments, before they all, including Luna, burst into laughter.

"Well, my most favourite future sister-in-law," said Harry, chuckling, "If I'm to be paraded about like stud on display, then I insist I properly escort you while I do so." He then stepped out the door where she took his elbow.

Turning to look back in he said, "Lock the door. I'll knock when I get back." Then allowed himself to be led away while making 'moo' sounds.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a relatively quiet third year, if you don't count the dementors, Harry was looking forward to a quiet fourth year. At least, he had his fingers crossed it would be. However, if the weather was a harbinger of the year to come, it was going to be a shocker.

As the thestral-drawn carriages made their way through the main gates and up the road to the main doors of the castle they had to move through almost gale force winds and lightning flashing through the skies.

"My word," said Daphne, from where she was snuggled in tight to Harry. "I'd hate to be a First Year crossing the lake in this!"

"Let's hope they're not that stupid as to put the firsties in the boats in this sort of weather," said Tracey. "Plus, they're going to be thoroughly soaked by the time they reach the castle.

"We would be, too, if it wasn't for the Water Repelling Charms we used before we alighted from the train," said Hermione from where she had Crookshanks bundled in her lap.

"You're assuming the staff at Hogwarts, for the most part, aren't stupid," said Harry. "I bet they still cross that way."

"No bet," smiled Neville.

Arriving at the castle, the Eight, from where they were split across two carriages, made their way into the Great Hall. They also saw just how many of the Second Years and up did not employ a water repelling charm of some form as, with the little they'd spent in the open, they were still somewhat soaked.

Harry and the others were madly using their wands and drying off as many of their fellow students as they could using a modified Drought Charm. Least, those students who weren't ahead of them.

They were only interrupted in what they were doing when the castle poltergeist, Peeves, thought to add his own mayhem by dropping water balloons onto the heads of students passing underneath.

"PEEVES!" yelled an angry voice. "Peeves, come down here at ONCE!" Professor McGonagall had come dashing out of the Great Hall; she skidded on the wet floor and grabbed Hermione around the neck to stop herself from falling. "Ouch - sorry, Miss Granger..."

"That's all right, Professor!" Hermione gasped, massaging her throat.

"Peeves, get down here NOW!" barked Professor McGonagall, straightening her pointed hat and glaring upward through her square-rimmed spectacles.

"Not doing nothing!" cackled Peeves, lobbing a water bomb at several fifth-year girls, who screamed and dived into the Great Hall. "Already wet, aren't they? Little squirts! Wheeeeeeeeee!" And he aimed another bomb at a group of second years who had just arrived.

"I shall call the Headmaster!" shouted Professor McGonagall. "I'm warning you, Peeves..."

Peeves stuck out his tongue, threw the last of his water bombs into the air, and zoomed off up the marble staircase, cackling insanely.

Harry and the others continued drying off students. From where she was now standing off to one side, Professor McGonagall watched them with interest. When the majority of the students had cleared she looked to them and said, "Ten points each, Mister Potter, Mister Longbottom, Miss Granger, Miss Greengrass, Miss Davis, Miss Bones and Miss Abbott for a most excellent application of the Drought Charm. That was very nice. Now, I wonder if you wouldn't mind doing that again once the new First Years arrive."

Luna did not know the Charm but was still wary of drawing in magic to power her spells. She seemed to be concerned it would also attract unwanted attention from Nargles. So, she had already gone inside to save a seat for Harry.

Neville smiled and said, "Sure thing, Professor. That is, if the others don't mind?"

Everyone else shook their heads.

When the new crop arrived, the Professor drew them in to the Entrance Hall, and the Seven dried them before they were then sent into the ante-chamber. One small boy, who looked a little familiar to Harry, was wearing Hagrid's huge moleskin coat. The boy looked like he was swimming in it. Harry had him remove it so Susan could dry him while Harry dried the coat.

"You're Harry Potter, aren't you?" the little boy asked, looking up at him with a little awe.

Harry smiled back and said, "Yes, I am." And quickly bundled the coat up before he said, "I'll return this to Hagrid for you. There's no need for you to carry it with you now."

The boy just nodded back.

Once all the firsties were dried and sent into the ante-chamber, the Seven headed inside to their respective House tables. Harry carried the great coat and dropped it onto Hagrid's big chair at the staff table before moving to his own.

Once seated Harry looked up at the staff table. There seemed to be rather more empty seats there than usual. Hagrid, of course, was outside sorting out the carriages; Professor McGonagall was presumably supervising the drying of the entrance hall floor and giving her little monologue to the new firsties, but there was another empty chair too, and Harry couldn't think who else was missing.

"Where's the new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" asked one of his dorm mates, who was also looking up at the professors.

"Maybe they couldn't get anyone!" replied another.

Harry just ignored it. However, it was now clear who was missing.

When Professor McGonagall led in the new firsties Harry saw the boy near the back who had been wearing Hagrid's great moleskin coat. As they passed the Gryffindor table, Harry saw young Colin Creevey wave at the boy, who waved back.

'Ah!' he thought. 'Probably another Creevey.'

After the sorting, with its usual crop of 'firsties' finding their way to the various tables, and the boy who proved to be a Dennis Creevey was sorted into Gryffindor, Harry was comfortably enjoying his meal and chatting with Luna.

After the main course was removed, desserts took their place.

"Pudding!" exclaimed Luna, happily picking up her bowl spooning a huge helping into it.

Harry smiled at her before reaching out for a couple of slices of treacle tart. He was always amused with how much dear Luna loved her pudding, and her sulking when none was served. He suspected she'd eat nothing _but_ pudding if she knew it was going to be served at every meal.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once the desserts were cleared away - and the plates, once more, were sparking clean - the Headmaster stood and gave his little warnings about banned items, the Forbidden Forest and Hogsmeade visits. He then hesitated for a few moments before he said, "It is also my painful duty to inform you that the Inter-House Quidditch Cup will not take place this year."

"What?" Harry gasped. He looked around at the rest of the Ravenclaw Quidditch team. They were mouthing soundlessly at Dumbledore, apparently too appalled to speak. Simon Martin was banging his head onto his empty plate on the table.

Dumbledore went on, "This is due to an event that will be starting in October, and continuing throughout the school year, taking up much of the teachers' time and energy - but I am sure you will all enjoy it immensely. I have great pleasure in announcing that this year at Hogwarts..."

He was interrupted, at that moment, when there was a deafening rumble of thunder and the doors of the Great Hall banged open.

A man stood in the doorway, leaning upon a long staff, shrouded in a black travelling cloak. Every head in the Great Hall swivelled toward the stranger, suddenly brightly illuminated by a fork of lightning that flashed across the ceiling. He lowered his hood, shook out a long mane of grizzled, dark gray hair, then began to walk up toward the teachers' table.

A dull clunk echoed through the Hall on his every other step. He reached the end of the top table, turned right, and limped heavily toward Dumbledore. Another flash of lightning crossed the ceiling. Someone gasped.

The lightning had thrown the man's face into sharp relief, and it was a face unlike any Harry had ever seen. It looked as though it had been carved out of weathered wood by someone who had only the vaguest idea of what human faces are supposed to look like, and was none too skilled with a chisel. Every inch of skin seemed to be scarred. The mouth looked like a diagonal gash, and a large chunk of the nose was missing. But it was the man's eyes that made him frightening.

One of them was small, dark, and beady. The other was large, round as a coin, and a vivid, electric blue. The blue eye was moving ceaselessly, without blinking, and was rolling up, down, and from side to side, quite independently of the normal eye - and then it rolled right over, pointing into the back of the man's head, so that all they could see was whiteness.

The stranger reached Dumbledore. He stretched out a hand that was as badly scarred as his face, and Dumbledore shook it, muttering words Harry couldn't hear. He seemed to be making some inquiry of the stranger, who shook his head unsmilingly and replied in an undertone. Dumbledore nodded and gestured the man to the empty seat on his right-hand side.

The stranger sat down, shook his mane of dark gray hair out of his face, pulled a plate of sausages toward him, raised it to what was left of his nose, and sniffed it. He then took a small knife out of his pocket, speared a sausage on the end of it, and began to eat. His normal eye was fixed upon the sausages, but the blue eye was still darting restlessly around in its socket, taking in the Hall and the students.

"May I introduce our new Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher?" said Dumbledore brightly into the silence. "Professor Moody."

It was usual for new staff members to be greeted with applause, but none of the staff or students clapped except Dumbledore and Hagrid, who both put their hands together and applauded, but the sound echoed dismally into the silence, and they stopped fairly quickly. Everyone else seemed too transfixed by Moody's bizarre appearance to do more than stare at him.

"What happened to him?" Mandy Brocklehurst asked. "What happened to his face?"

"Dunno," Terry Boot whispered back, watching Moody with fascination.

Moody seemed totally indifferent to his less-than-warm welcome. Ignoring the jug of pumpkin juice in front of him, he reached again into his travelling cloak, pulled out a hip flask, and took a long draught from it. As he lifted his arm to drink, his cloak was pulled a few inches from the ground, and Harry saw, below the table, several inches of carved wooden leg, ending in a clawed foot.

Dumbledore cleared his throat.

"As I was saying," he said, smiling at the sea of students before him, all of whom were still gazing transfixed at Mad-Eye Moody, "we are to have the honour of hosting a very exciting event over the coming months, an event that has not been held for over a century. It is my very great pleasure to inform you that the Tri-wizard Tournament will be taking place at Hogwarts this year."

"You're JOKING!" said Fred Weasley loudly.

The tension that had filled the Great Hall ever since Moody's arrival suddenly broke. Nearly everyone laughed, and Dumbledore chuckled appreciatively. "I am not joking, Mr. Weasley," he said, "though now that you mention it, I did hear an excellent one over the summer about a troll, a hag, and a leprechaun who all go into a bar.

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly.

"Err - but maybe this is not the time - no..." said Dumbledore, "Where was I? Ah yes, the Tri-wizard Tournament - Well, some of you will not know what this tournament involves, so I hope those who do know will forgive me for giving a short explanation, and allow their attention to wander freely.

"The Tri-wizard Tournament was first established some seven hundred years ago as a friendly competition between the three largest European schools of wizardry: Hogwarts, Beauxbatons, and Durmstrang. A champion was selected to represent each school, and the three champions competed in three magical tasks. The schools took it in turns to host the tournament once every five years, and it was generally agreed to be a most excellent way of establishing ties between young witches and wizards of different nationalities - until, that is, the death toll mounted so high that the tournament was discontinued."

Many of the students were whispering excitedly to one another, and Harry himself was far more interested in hearing about the tournament than in worrying about deaths that had happened hundreds of years ago.

"There have been several attempts, over the centuries, to reinstate the tournament," Dumbledore continued, "None of which has been very successful. However, our own Departments of International Magical Cooperation and Magical Games and Sports have decided the time is ripe for another attempt. We have worked hard over the summer to ensure that this time, no champion will find himself or herself in mortal danger.

"The heads of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving with their short-listed contenders in October, and the selection of the three champions will take place at Halloween. An impartial judge will decide which students are most worthy to compete for the Tri-wizard Cup, the glory of their school, and a thousand Galleons personal prize money."

At every House table, Harry could see people either gazing raptly at Dumbledore, or else whispering fervently to their neighbours. Harry had a bad feeling stemming from this.

But then Dumbledore spoke again, and the Great Hall quieted once more. "Eager, though, I know all of you will be to bring the Tri-wizard Cup to Hogwarts," he said, "the heads of the participating schools, along with the Ministry of Magic, have agreed to impose an age restriction on contenders this year. Only students who are of age - that is to say, seventeen years or older - will be allowed to put forward their names for consideration. This..." Dumbledore raised his voice slightly, for several people had made noises of outrage at these words, "... is a measure we feel is necessary, given that the tournament tasks will still be difficult and dangerous - whatever precautions we take - and it is highly unlikely that students below sixth and seventh year will be able to cope with them.

"I will personally be ensuring that no underage student hoodwinks our impartial judge into making them Hogwarts champion." His light blue eyes twinkled as they flickered over Fred's and George's mutinous faces. "I therefore beg you not to waste your time submitting yourself if you are under seventeen.

"The delegations from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will be arriving in October and remaining with us for the greater part of this year. I know that you will all extend every courtesy to our foreign guests while they are with us, and will give your whole-hearted support to the Hogwarts champion when he or she is selected. And now, it is late, and I know how important it is to you all to be alert and rested as you enter your lessons tomorrow morning. Bedtime! Chop chop!"

Dumbledore sat down again and turned to talk to Mad-Eye Moody. There was a great scraping and banging as all the students got to their feet and swarmed toward the double doors into the Entrance Hall.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a night where he didn't feel he'd had a decent night's sleep, Harry joined the others at the Gryffindor table. The storm had blown itself out by the following morning, though the ceiling in the Great Hall was still gloomy. Heavy clouds of pewter gray swirled overhead as the Eight examined their new course schedules at breakfast. A few seats along, Fred, George, and Lee Jordan were discussing magical methods of aging themselves and bluffing their way into the Tri-wizard Tournament.

"G'morning," Harry mumbled to the others before he leaned over and gave Daphne a half-hearted peck on the cheek.

"Not have a good night?" she asked.

"No," he replied a little dejectedly. "I've got a _real_ bad feeling about this tournament thing."

"You're _not_ thinking of entering it, are you?" she gasped.

"_Hell_, no!" he vehemently replied before calming down again. "But, I can't but help worrying about it. I just thank Merlin I'm not yet of age!"

They were soon joined by the twins.

"Who's this impartial judge who's going to decide who the champions are?" asked Harry.

"Dunno," said Fred. "But, it's them we'll have to fool. I reckon a couple of drops of Aging Potion might do it, George..."

"Dumbledore knows you're not of age, though," said Susan.

"Yeah, but he's not the one who decides who the champion is, is he?" said Fred shrewdly. "Sounds to me like once this judge knows who wants to enter, he'll choose the best from each school and never mind how old they are. Dumbledore's trying to stop us giving our names."

"People have died, though!" said Hermione in a worried voice.

"Yeah," said Fred airily, "but that was years ago, wasn't it? Anyway, where's the fun without a bit of risk?" Looking down the table a little he saw his youngest brother sitting there. "Hey, Ron, what if we find out how to get 'round Dumbledore? Fancy entering?"

"What d'you reckon?" asked Ron. "Be cool to enter, wouldn't it? But I s'pose they might want someone older. Dunno if we've learned enough..."

"I definitely haven't," came Neville's gloomy voice. "I expect my Gran would want me to try, though. She's always going on about how I should be upholding the family honour. I'll just have to let her know I can't due to the age limit."

"I don't think she'd care now, Nev," said Harry. "After all, her grandson did slay a thousand year old basilisk only a little over a year ago; and rescue the damsel in distress. I think you've _more_ than adequately demonstrated your Gryffindorish Longbottom bravery."

Neville smiled and said, "Yeah. Yeah, I think you'd be right about that."

Professor Flitwick was soon around with his class schedule and offered his own congratulations for attaining the highest scores of his year the previous year. Harry gave a smile and his thanks before looking down at the schedule.

"Huh!" he said. "I seem to have quite a few class periods with the 'Puffs, this year."

"It's supposed to be even," said Hermione.

"It is," replied Harry. "If you only take into consideration the classes. Transfiguration and Astronomy with Slytherin; Charms, Herbology and History of Magic with Gryffindor; Potions and DADA with Hufflepuff. However, there are three classes a week for Potions and DADA so that six class periods with Hufflepuff. Transfiguration is three class periods, but Astronomy is only one; so, that's four class periods with Slytherin. Charms and Herbology are two each and History of Magic is one; so, that's five class periods.

"Then there's, for me, the two classes that are for all four Houses out of the electives; Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. So, I didn't count those as it was pointless."

When the mail came in Harry quickly opened his copy of the Daily Prophet. He had no other items.

Reading through it he saw an article on Professor Moody and Mister Weasley.

_FURTHER MISTAKES AT THE MINISTRY OF MAGIC_

_It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. _

_Recently under fire for its poor crowd control at the Quidditch World Cup, and still unable to account for the disappearance of one of its witches, the Ministry was plunged into fresh embarrassment yesterday by the antics of Arnold Weasley, of the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts Office."_

_Arnold Weasley, who was charged with possession of a flying car two years ago after his twin sons were caught flying it, was yesterday involved in a tussle with several Muggle law-keepers ('policemen') over a number of highly aggressive dustbins. Mr. Weasley appears to have rushed to the aid of 'Mad-Eye' Moody, the aged ex-Auror who retired from the Ministry when no longer able to tell the difference between a handshake and attempted murder. _

_Unsurprisingly, Mr. Weasley found, upon arrival at Mr. Moody's heavily guarded house, that Mr. Moody had once again raised a false alarm. Mr. Weasley was forced to modify several memories before he could escape from the policemen, but refused to answer Daily Prophet questions about why he had involved the Ministry in such an undignified and potentially embarrassing scene._

"Well, Harry Tracey and I have Transfiguration now; so..." said Daphne, starting to pack up ready to leave.

"And, that's our call," said Harry, following suit.

He, Daphne and Tracey headed for the Transfiguration classroom after bidding their friends a good day.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	61. He Comes Clean

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty One - He Comes Clean**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As Harry had dropped out of Muggle Studies, his day finished after the single History of Magic class after lunch. He was also one of the first up to their room in the Come and Go Room. And was only beaten by the twins. They were working on something at the Potions workstation.

"What are you two doing here?" he asked. "I thought you had History of Magic for your last class."

"We're dropping it," said one.

"That is, we're dropping the class," said the other.

"But we'll probably still take the exam," said the first.

"Not that we need it," said the other.

"Huh!" said Harry. "So, what are you working on now?"

"Products!" they said together.

"We used to use History of Magic," said one

"... to plan out our product line," said the other.

"Now we can use this room, instead," said the first.

"That makes sense," said Harry as he sat at one of the study carousels and began to make a start on his Transfiguration homework.

When the others started trooping in an hour later, he had the basics of his assignment already down and was using the Room library to do his research. He didn't even realise they'd come in until Daphne put her arms around him from behind and bent forward to kiss him on the cheek.

Of course, his concentration flew right out the window, like Hedwig off to deliver mail, when she rubbed her chest on the back of his neck and down his back.

"Errr..." he muttered.

"I'm sorry," she purred in his ear. "Did I break your concentration?"

"Errr..." he muttered again before sighing. Softly he whined, "You _know_ what that does to me."

"I know," she said, amused. "That's why I do it."

Turning about he pulled her into his lap and kissed her gently on the lips. "You know you only need to call my name or tap me on the shoulder to get my attention, don't you?"

"Of course!" she brightly said with a grin. "But, where's the fun in that?"

Making sure his lap was out of sight of the others, he reached for her nearside hand and pulled it down into his lap. "Because, _this_ bloody hurts inside of tight pants when it's - happy."

She snatched her hand back as if it was scalded and squealed. "_Haaarrryyy!_" she exclaimed.

Some of the others looked over and could see Daphne blushing bright red and trying to get off Harry's lap while he held her firmly in place.

"Alright, you two," smirked Tracey. "What's going on over there?"

Harry let her go and spun back to the carousel. She walked over to Tracey and, leaning over, whispered into her ear, "I'll tell you later."

Harry had the assignment written out and completed that afternoon before they headed down to dinner. He also passed out copies of it to the others, except Luna and the twins. "For your notes," he explained. "The bibliography includes which books I used."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Heading to the Great Hall for dinner, the Eight, together with the Weasley twins, were coming down the last few stairs into the Entrance Hall when they came across the start of a commotion between Malfoy and Ron Weasley.

Harry had little time for the youngest male Weasley, but even less for a braggart like Malfoy.

"Weasley! Hey, Weasley!" called Malfoy as came up from behind the youngest Weasley male, who was about to walk through the doors into the Great Hall.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing there, each looking thoroughly pleased about something.

"What?" asked Weasley shortly.

"Your dad's in the paper, Weasley!" said Malfoy, brandishing a copy of the Daily Prophet and speaking very loudly, so that everyone in the packed Entrance Hall could hear. "Listen to this! Further mistakes at the Ministry of Magic! It seems as though the Ministry of Magic's troubles are not yet at an end, writes Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent. Recently under fire for its poor crowd control..."

"Trying to prove to everyone you can read, Mister Malfoy?" called Harry, coming closer.

Spinning around to Harry, Malfoy sneered, "Stay out of this, Potter!"

"How about you now hand it over to the next kiddie and let Crabbe read some?" said Harry with a smirk. "We don't want to see you hurting yourself trying to think too hard, do we?"

"I'm warning you, Potter," sneered the little blonde ponce with an angry growl. "Stay out of this!"

Walking past, Harry gave a shrug and said, "Suit yourself, Mister Malfoy. But, your targeted victim for _bullying_ has already left. He was probably bored by you."

BANG!

Several people screamed. Harry felt something white-hot graze the side of his face. He popped his wand into his hand and began to spin about. He heard a second loud BANG and a roar that echoed through the Entrance Hall.

"_Oh, no you don't, Laddie!_" Professor Moody was limping down the marble staircase. His wand was out and it was pointing right at a pure white ferret, which was shivering on the stone-flagged floor, exactly where Malfoy had been standing.

There was a terrified silence in the Entrance Hall. Nobody but Moody was moving a muscle. Moody turned to look at Harry. At least, his normal eye was looking at Harry; the other one was pointing into the back of his head.

"Did he get you?" Moody growled. His voice was low and gravelly.

"No - Professor," said Harry. "Typically for him, he missed."

"_Leave it!_" shouted Moody.

"Leave - what?" Harry said, bewildered.

"Not you - _him_!" Moody growled, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at Crabbe, who had just frozen, about to pick up the white ferret. It seemed that Moody's rolling eye was magical and could see out of the back of his head.

Moody started to limp toward Crabbe, Goyle, and the ferret, which gave a terrified squeak and took off, streaking toward the dungeons.

"_I don't think so!_" roared Moody, pointing his wand at the ferret again. It flew ten feet into the air, fell with a smack to the floor, and then bounced upward once more.

"I don't like - people who - attack when - their opponent's - back's turned," growled Moody as the ferret bounced higher and higher, squealing in pain. "Stinking, cowardly, scummy thing to do..."

The ferret flew through the air, its legs and tail flailing helplessly.

"Never - do - that - again -" said Moody, speaking each word as the ferret hit the stone floor and bounced upward again.

"_Professor Moody!_" said a shocked voice. Professor McGonagall was coming down the marble staircase with her arms full of books.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," said Moody calmly, bouncing the ferret still higher.

"What - what are you _doing_?" asked a shocked Professor McGonagall, her eyes following the bouncing ferret's progress through the air.

"Teaching," said Moody.

"Teach... Moody, is that a _student?_" shrieked Professor McGonagall, the books spilling out of her arms.

"Yep," said Moody.

"_No!_" cried Professor McGonagall, running down the stairs and pulling out her wand.

A moment later, with a loud snapping noise, Draco Malfoy had reappeared, lying in a heap on the floor with his sleek blond hair all over his now brilliantly pink face. He got to his feet, wincing.

"Moody, we _never_ use Transfiguration as a punishment!" said Professor McGonagall wearily. "Surely Professor Dumbledore told you that?"

"He might've mentioned it; yeah," said Moody, scratching his chin unconcernedly. "But, I thought a good sharp shock..."

"We give _detentions_, Moody! Or speak to the offender's Head of House!"

"I'll do that, then," said Moody, staring at Malfoy with great dislike.

Malfoy, whose pale eyes were still watering with pain and humiliation, looked malevolently up at Moody and muttered something in which the words "my father" were distinguishable.

"Oh yeah?" said Moody quietly, limping forward a few steps, the dull clunk of his wooden leg echoing around the hall. "Well, I know your father of old, boy. You tell him Moody's keeping a close eye on his son - you tell him that from me. Now, your Head of House'll be Snape, will it?"

"Yes," said Malfoy resentfully.

"Another old friend," growled Moody. "I've been looking forward to a chat with old Snape. Come on, you." He seized Malfoy's upper arm and marched him off toward the dungeons.

Professor McGonagall stared anxiously after them for a few moments, then waved her wand at her fallen books, causing them to soar up into the air and back into her arms.

As Harry stepped through the doors, Ron Weasley, who stood just inside it, said, "Potter."

Turning to the other boy, he asked, "Yes?"

Weasley the youngest blushed and turned his eyes away before he said, "I just wanted to say - thank you."

"I don't like bullies of any persuasion, Mister Weasley," he replied. "If I see it; I'll deal with it. That includes if it's someone bullying _you_. I don't like bullies - or liars."

"Yeah," the other boy said, looking back. "Still - thank you."

"You're welcome," replied Harry, walking away.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During dinner, that night, Harry received a note from Dumbledore. He wanted to see him, with his guardians, the Friday evening _four_ days hence.

Harry showed the note to Daphne and said, "Well, it appears you _can_ teach old dogs new tricks, after all."

Daphne smirked and asked, "Any inkling as to what he wants?"

"No idea," shrugged Harry. "But it might well be something to do with this Tri-Wizard Tournament nonsense. I'll be very happy to tell him I have no intention on taking part in it in any form other than as a spectator."

After dinner, he took his betrothed aside for a private discussion.

"I said that in there about the tournament just for our friends," he said. "I'm actually hoping he wants to finally come clean about the prophecy and the horcruxes."

"You think he might?" she asked, with one eyebrow cocked.

He loved that expression on her face. "No," he sighed. "I'm just _hoping_ he will. I think we need to talk to your Dad and Neville's Uncle Algie about whether we _force_ the issue with the old man. I'm concerned Dumbledore has information about the horcruxes that we don't. After all, he's kept the whole thing about the prophecy to himself for going on fifteen years now."

"And you think he's figured out there's horcruxes and the like involved?" she asked, curious.

"If he hadn't before, he _surely_ would have figured out what that blasted diary was fifteen months ago," he replied. "He may be stuck in a box with his thinking, but he's also very well versed in the arts of magic. I'm sure he's figured it out by now."

"Then we'd best join the others upstairs and get those letters written," said Daphne.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next day, in Potions, Snape appeared to have reverted to his old ways with his sneering at Harry. However, by the end of the lesson, he had reverted back to watching Harry closely.

Because there were nine in each year group for Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff, Harry volunteered to be the one who shared with a 'Puff. He was surprised when Justin Finch-Fletchley immediately volunteered and made his way over.

"Justin," said Harry, amused when the boy sat down next to him.

"Harry," replied the other boy, equally amused.

"If you two are _quite_ finished," sneered Snape. "Perhaps, we can get started on the lesson."

When neither boy responded, Snape spun on his heel, waved his wand at the board, and caused the instructions for the first potion of the year to be displayed. Harry had learned long ago Snape only used a Wizard Notice-Me-Not Charm to hide what he'd probably written by hand there earlier.

Quickly, Harry prepared the equipment while Justin gathered the extra ingredients, bringing them back to their workstation.

As they worked, Harry quietly told the other boy why he was doing things slightly out of order to the instructions, and how it saved time. He also said what order he'd do things if he was working on his own. And he showed Justin the reaction tables he was using that showed why Harry would do things a different way.

And, while he was instructing, Harry watched Snape out of the corner of his eye as the Potions Master took careful notes. It really amused him as Snape was avidly learning from Harry as much as he could. And, when others were talking, Snape would berate them and deduct points for 'gossiping' while he never said a word to him.

Well before the end of the lesson, Harry and Justin had completed their potion and bottled it in correct quantities in small phials. As they finished, Justin looked around and was surprised when he saw how far ahead of the others they were.

Without a word, he gathered up the unused ingredients and returned them to the ingredient store while Harry gathered up the equipment and took it to the cleaning area. He was quietly cleaning things when Justin came up alongside him and began drying the equipment.

Once finished, they turned to Professor Snape, who was carefully looking in the phials, holding them up to the light. As they waited, Justin grinned at Harry.

Finally, Snape turned to both of them, nodded once and pointed at the door. They got the message, put their own equipment away, collected their bags and left.

As soon as they stepped outside and the door closed behind them, Justin turned to Harry and exclaimed, "_That_ was bloody brilliant! I haven't _ever_ had a potions lesson where I've learned _so_ much!"

Harry just chuckled back and said, "It's all a matter of _thinking_, Mister Finch-Fletchley. Think about what it is you're trying to accomplish and _figure it out_. Besides, it helps me that I've been cooking since I was old enough to hold a large pan of hot water by the handle without spilling anything."

After lunch, Ravenclaw was with the Gryffindors in Herbology. They worked on extracting bubotuber pus from mature plants and bottling it ready for use.

Harry remembered back to first year when some wanker tried to send through a bubotuber pus based letter bomb to Daphne, so he was very careful of how he handled the substance. His dragonhide gloves rarely came off for the entire lesson.

Bubotubers were the ugliest plants Harry had ever seen. They looked less like plants than thick, black, giant slugs, protruding vertically out of the soil. Each was squirming slightly and had a number of large, shiny swellings upon it, which appeared to be full of liquid.

"Bubotubers," Professor Sprout told them briskly. "They need squeezing. You will collect the pus. The pus is extremely valuable, so don't waste it. You will collect the pus, I say, in these bottles. Wear your dragon-hide gloves; it can do funny things to the skin when undiluted, bubotuber pus."

Squeezing the bubotubers was disgusting, but oddly satisfying. As each swelling was popped, a large amount of thick yellowish-green liquid burst forth, which smelled strongly of petrol. They caught it in the bottles as Professor Sprout had indicated, and by the end of the lesson had collected several pints.

Professor Sprout, stoppering the last bottle with a cork, said, "An excellent remedy for the more stubborn forms of acne, bubotuber pus. Should stop students resorting to desperate measures to rid themselves of pimples."

Pimples was one thing Harry was very pleased puberty hadn't brought out on his or Daphne's skin. However, it affected a couple of the others in only light ways. A girl in Hufflepuff in the year below them, Eloise Midgen, had a horrendous bout of it that left her face quite scarred the previous year.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Astronomy that night was a drag. Harry wondered why he kept at it, but knew it could be important in a couple of subjects such as Potions and Arithmancy. It was peculiar how the seasons and alignments of planets could effect both. However, like History of Magic, it also was only one lesson period per week. For that effort, it was a possible NEWT with little effort.

However, that is was on well after midnight, its effect on the body outweighed the effect on the mind. He was starting to be able to nap in the evenings before going to the class, so that the few hours he managed to get between the class and needing to be up the next morning did not so heavily weigh on his ability to concentrate.

So, he had taken to sleeping in past breakfast, then ducking down to the kitchens for some warm porridge before then heading directly to Transfiguration for the single lesson period before heading to the Great Hall for lunch.

At least, that's what he did the previous year. And he had decided to do the same this year.

After lunch, he headed for the DADA classroom to see what the latest new DADA Professor, Professor Moody, could teach them. He already missed Remus in the role.

_‗_  
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\""/

Harry all but practically stormed out of the classroom after the lesson. "Of all the _cock_amamie, stupid, _brain_-dead, idiotic, moronic things that hacked up, half-arsed, _git_ could have taught us, he decides to teach the _Unforgivables?_ To _students?_" ranted Harry to Susan and Hannah in the corridor outside and down a bit from the classroom.

"Hmmm," said Hannah to Susan with a small grin. "I think Harry's a little upset."

"Clearly, he's only a _little_ upset because things aren't flying off the walls at the moment," replied Susan, equally grinning.

Not knowing how else to respond, Harry did what any mature, self-respecting wizard would do in the same situation; he blew them a raspberry.

Both girls just giggled back.

Harry pouted and said to the pair of them, "It's no fun building up a good rant if you're not scared of me."

The girls moved to either side of him and each took an elbow. "But, Harry. We know you'd never harm us, even by accident," said Hannah.

Susan then said, "You're far too much the knight in shining armour type to harm either one of us, and we know it."

Then the girls set him walking to the Grand Staircase and up to the seventh floor.

Those students who were trying to get past during Harry's mini-rant and didn't want to get in range so didn't approach, sighed with relief when he left being escorted by the two Hufflepuff girls. Then they quickly approached the Grand Staircase themselves to head to their own common rooms before dinner.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, Thursday, Harry received notice from Cygnus that he would be coming and bringing 'Unspeakable Croaker' with him under disguise. Sirius would also be joining them, but that was it.

_Dear Harry,_

_As per your suggestion to speak to UA about raising H with D, he believes the time is getting ripe. However, he wants to hold off on our initiating the issue. Rather, he wants D to make the first overture. If D mentions P then we go; else, we hold off - for now._

_Cygnus_

Harry showed the note to Daphne and Neville before covering the note and flash incinerating it on the table. It would not do for others to ever be able to find it. A quick Repair Charm on the surface of the table and even the flash burn mark was gone.

Hermione gave him a funny look but Harry whispered back, "Please, don't ask. Family business."

Though she frowned as if she felt put-out, she nodded in recognition.

Thursday was also a hard day, academically, for the group. Harry and most of the others all had Arithmancy and Ancient Runes in two double periods straddling lunch. But, it also allowed them to keep their minds of other matters.

For Harry, who had already well and truly memorised all the various arithmancy tables and rune sets, it was still hard work. Plus, he was providing the answers for a lot of the runes for the others in the same class.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next evening Harry and Daphne waited in the Great Hall for their 'guests' to arrive. The meeting was to take place immediately after the evening meal. They arrived just as the dessert dishes were cleared away.

Cygnus, Sirius and Isabel - Croaker in disguise - entered and waited for a few minutes talking to the Eight before Harry and Daphne and the three adults made their way to Dumbledore's office.

As he approached the gargoyle, Harry said, "Chocolate Frogs," and the gargoyle nimbly leapt aside.

Once in the office, there were four chairs before the headmaster's desk; rather uncomfortable looking ones, too.

Harry quickly banished one and transfigured the other three into two pairs of loveseats and an armchair. From behind, Cygnus quietly snorted at the surprised expression on Dumbledore's face.

Harry assisted Daphne into sitting while, with a smirk, Cygnus assisted 'Isabel' who gave him a wink in response.

As soon as he was sitting, Cygnus looked at Dumbledore and asked, "Now, Headmaster; why are we here?"

"Straight to the point, Cygnus," replied Dumbledore. "Very well then. There are some issues I need to discuss with Harry which are - sensitive in nature - and I need you to relax the limitations you've placed me under with regards to the boy."

"No," said Cygnus.

"Perhaps I did not make myself clear enough," tried the old man. "These are issues relating to the security matters that I find myself only able to discuss with Harry..."

"No, Albus," said Cygnus, quite firmly. "You are a Headmaster of a school. The only security matters relating to Harry you should be discussing with him you should also be discussing with the entire school population and all the parents and guardians. Any other security matters relate to his home life, and that's _my_ concern - not yours."

Dumbledore gave one of his big grandfatherly disappointment sighs while he gathered his thoughts. Harry and Daphne both snickered.

Cygnus smirked at Harry and Daphne before turning back to Dumbledore. He said, "As you can see, Albus, even the kids can see through that particular 'Oh I'm so hard done by' act."

Dumbledore lost the twinkle for a few moments before he straightened himself up and said, "There are still matters I must speak with young Harry in private that specifically concern him."

"Then you are _never_ going to be speak with him, Albus," said Cygnus. "You'll have to wait until he comes of age and decides for himself whether to speak with you privately."

"It won't happen then, either," said Harry. "Albus just can't seem to get it into his head I really don't like him and - as soon as possible - I want to be shot of him out of my life completely."

Cygnus nodded and said, "So, there you have it, Albus; it's never going to happen."

With an angry frown, Dumbledore then said, "Since you won't see reason in this small matter, I'm going to need a vow off all of you, that what we discuss here tonight you will not speak of outside of this room..."

Harry couldn't help it. He laughed out loud. "Oh, that's rich!" he chuckled. "In other words, you want to be able to raise any subject you want, and the only way any of us can ever talk about it again, is in your presence.

"So, if I mention - say - I plan on asking Daphne to marry me - betrothal aside - the summer we graduate, we can never discuss the matter again unless we do it in this very room! Ha! That's just too funny!"

"That is not the matter I wish to discuss tonight, Mister Potter," Dumbledore said firmly.

"Well, you didn't specify what you want to discuss, Albus," smirked Cygnus. "Perhaps if you told us what _specific_ matter you wanted to discuss, young Harry would not have been so amused."

Dumbledore sighed again, but he wasn't so theatrical about it this time. "It relates to a specific matter relating to the security of the wizarding realm that I really should only discuss with Mister Potter."

"So, let me get this straight," said Cygnus, quite amused. "You only wish to discuss such an important matter with a fourteen year old boy and not me, who has sat upon the Wizengamot - the body _responsible_ for the security of the wizarding realm - for almost two decades. Do I have the gist of it, Albus?"

"When you put it like that," replied Dumbledore. "I can see how you would feel that way. However, I really must insist..."

"Oh, give it a rest, Albus," said Harry. "You're not going to win this, no matter how many times you push."

"Mister Potter," the old man firmly said.

Harry leaned forward and said, "This - right here and now - is your one and only chance to come clean, Albus. Come clean, or I walk out of here right now, pack my trunk and leave this school, forever."

Dumbledore locked eyes with Harry for a few long moments but, as he was wearing his charmed spectacles, he did not feel any attempt at passive Legilimency.

When Dumbledore broke the connection he looked down at the desktop in front of him and said, "This matter is too sensitive..."

"That's it," interrupted Harry. He stood up and said, "You had your chance, Headmaster Dumbledore..."

"Wait! please," said the old man interrupting right back.

When Harry stopped he sat back and said, "There was a prophecy made many years ago. If information about it get's to the wrong ears, it can spell doom for the wizarding world. It's that matter I need to discuss with you, alone, Harry; as it pertains to you."

Harry threw his hands in the air and exclaimed, "_Finally!_" And sat back down on the loveseat he shared with Daphne.

Cygnus and 'Isabel' both chuckled. Daphne just smirked.

Dumbledore frowned as he looked around at his four guests. His face took on a worried look and he said, "This - does not come as a surprise, to any of you."

Cygnus just shook his head and looked askance at Harry. "Harry?" he asked. "Do you want to do the honours?"

Harry said back, "Thank you," before turning to Dumbledore. He intoned, "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches..." he watched Dumbledore reel back in shock. "... born to those who have thrice defied him - And the Dark Lord will mark..."

"Stop!" exclaimed the old man holding both hands out and waving them frantically in warding gesture with a look of horror on his face.

Harry stopped but smirked back at the old man.

"How..." the old man stuttered. "Harry! - How..."

"How what, Albus?" asked Harry calmly. "How now brown cow?"

"How - did you learn of - the prophecy?" asked an almost befuddled Dumbledore.

Harry shrugged and said, "Riddle alerted me to its existence _years_ ago. So, once I learned those sort of things were stored down in the Department of Mysteries, I went in and heard it for myself."

Looking quite shocked and defeated, Dumbledore asked, "Who else knows?"

Before Harry could say anything, Cygnus replied, "That's _none_ of your business. However, I _will_ tell you it's over a dozen people, so far."

"_Nooo!_" Dumbledore exclaimed. "If the wrong people know of it - it could lead to the destruction of all we hold dear!"

Cygnus snorted and said, "You're a fool, Dumbledore. The prophecy states Harry has to kill Voldemort. So, what were you going to do to ensure that outcome, hmm?

"You've known of the prophecy since it was made. Yet, you've done _nothing_ to ensure young Harry is prepared for when the prophecy comes to pass. We're over fourteen years since the prophecy was made. What have you done about it?"

"Harry is still a child," replied Dumbledore. "He needs to be allowed to have a happy childhood before he..."

Harry burst into laughter again. "Oh, Merlin! Please, stop!" he cried, before bursting into laughter again.

"I fail to see the humour in the situation, Mister Potter," replied Dumbledore flatly, and clearly a little hurt by being laughed at.

"What? You _don't_?" asked Harry. "Let's see - there was this whiskered wanker who thought he was God's gift to the wizarding world who - instead of immediately handing me over to my rightful guardians, where I have _little_ doubt I _would_ have led a happy childhood - decided to break the law and dumped my arse on the doorstep of my abusive relatives. Where, for the next near on ten years I was then systematically physically, emotionally and verbally abused. Does this ring any bells for you, Albus?

"So, I then had to grow up _real_ fast. I had to - through using my own rat cunning and smarts - find a way to ensure I was able to acquire food for myself; develop and earn income to get said food; develop a talent for cooking; and become skilled in all forms of housework, gardening and home maintenance, lest I earn myself a _beating_ that would have either killed a normal child or, more often, send that child to hospital. Where was the happy childhood in that, hmm?

"But all that doesn't matter because the prophecy also covers that. Just what the _hell_ did you think the part in the prophecy where it says '...for neither can live while the other survives...' means if not that, hmm?"

"Alright, Harry; I think he's got the point, don't you?" Cygnus gently said.

"Yes. Quite," sighed Dumbledore.

Turning back to Dumbledore, Cygnus said, "Now; perhaps it's time for you to come clean with just what you've been doing with regards to the prophecy; don't you think, Albus?"

Dumbledore sat there for a few long moments before he replied, "It's my belief Tom used magics most foul to - keep his immortal soul from passing on to his next great adventure. It's by using those magics he will find a way to return.

"What happened in the Great Hall on the night of the sorting in 1991 confirmed it for me. Then, again, in June 1993 when Harry and Neville faced him in the Chamber of Secrets. That diary was one of the objects he used to hold himself here. However, I have no idea just how many such objects he made."

Harry, Daphne and Cygnus sat there for a few moments to see if the old man would say any more. Then Cygnus turned to 'Isabel' and asked, "Heard enough?"

"Yes," said 'Isabel'. "I think he's starting to come clean. I think it's time we did, too." 'She' then used 'her' wand to dispel the very strong glamour 'she' was wearing. In 'her' place sat Algernon Croaker.

Dumbledore recoiled back in shock. "Algernon?" he practically squeaked.

"Yes, Albus," Uncle Algie replied with a smirk. "And you've got some more explaining to do."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	62. Fourth Competitor

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Two - Fourth Competitor**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The meeting went quite long into the night. Dumbledore 'confessed' to having spent his time since the battle with the basilisk researching horcruxes and what Riddle had used to make them. He explained about Riddle's penchant for collecting trophies of those he had bested when he was a small child. Algernon called Riddle a 'magpie' who was attracted to 'shiny things'.

When asked what he believed the horcruxes to be, it took some strong and determined persuasion for Dumbledore to state he believed Riddle had sought out treasures belonging to the founders, to use them as the soul containers. He had developed a list of items that were known to have belonged to the founders but had seemingly been lost in time.

He had spent as much time as he could interviewing people and searching for them. However, he was very reticent to hand the list over, as he claimed he'd not had time to investigate whether or not the items still existed. Algernon simply told Dumbledore to hand the list over under _his_ own authority as head of the Department of Mysteries - as it was his department who were responsible for such matters - or face the consequences. Very reluctantly, Dumbledore did so.

Once they got out of Dumbledore everything they thought they were going to get, Algernon went through the list and said, "We've already found the Gaunt family ring; and, yes, it was a horcrux. As you surmised, the diary was another; and Mister Potter dealt with that. We also found Ravenclaw's diadem, here, in the castle; another horcrux. And, we also found Hufflepuff's Cup in a vault in Gringotts; yet another horcrux. That makes four found and dealt with."

Dumbledore was absolutely gobsmacked so much had already been done and so many had already been found.

Harry couldn't help but snicker at the old man's expression.

Pretending not to notice Dumbledore's expression, Croaker continued, "We know the sword of Gryffindor is _not_ a horcrux, because it became infused with basilisk venom; the substance by which Mister Potter destroyed the diary horcrux. Slytherin's locket is a real possibility; as is his potion athame, Gryffindor's cape brooch and gauntlets, Ravenclaw's necklace and rings, and Hufflepuff's necklace and rings.

"We've searched the entire castle and know there are no other such objects here. The Gaunt family home only held the ring, so there's nothing there now; the Riddle family manor held nothing; the orphanage where he grew up was demolished in the late 1960's, while Riddle was still running around - so, if there was anything there, he would have moved it somewhere else.

"However, when interviewing some of the original muggle children, we found evidence of something horrible that occurred to some of the children when they were on a day trip to the coast. When we searched the area we found a cave hidden by blood wards. Once we got inside we found someone had beat us to it, and replaced something in a giant goblet with an ordinary locket. Inside the locket the - thief - left a note. It read 'I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was _I_ who discovered your secret'. It was signed simply as R.A.B."

"What?" said Sirius, suddenly looking up in shock and staring intently at Algernon. "_Who_ signed it? Do you have the locket with you?"

Algernon frowned back and reached into his pocket. He drew out what looked like a standard locket on a gold chain, and handed it to Sirius.

Sirius, almost reverently, took the locket in both hands and stared down at it. Harry could see his godfather looking at it in almost awe and had tears in his eyes. "He - he - In the end - he fought for the Light."

"You recognise it, Lord Black?" asked Algernon.

Sirius, still staring at the locket in his hands, nodded. With an emotion-choked voice he replied, "It belong to my brother. R A B is - was - Regulus Arcturus Black. I always wondered what happened to him."

Everyone was quite shocked to hear that. It was Algernon who spoke first. "Do you know what he may have done with it? The original?"

"Yeah," replied Sirius, finally looking up. "I think it's the locket in the display case at my place - The Black House.

"I wanted to toss it, but my house elf, Kreacher, told me it was Master Regulus's locket. I kept it for sentimental value."

"House elves don't make those sorts of mistakes," said Algernon. "If he says the one at your place is 'Master Regulus's locket', then it stands to reason that it's the one your brother switched out with the one that was in the goblet in the cave. I need you to invite me to the Black House once we're done here, tonight."

"Of course," said Sirius, staring back down at the locket.

Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, "It would be helpful if we knew how many he made. One is horrendous; to know he made more is - disconcerting."

After a moment or two, Algernon said, "Six."

Harry looked across and mused, "I thought it was seven."

Shaking his head, Algernon said, "No. Seven _parts_. Six horcruxes and one he needed to retain within himself to stay alive. Four have been found and dealt with. If the locket at the Black House is another, that'll make five.

"Don't forget the two - wraiths - that came out of my head and Professor Quirrell," said Harry. "That would make the seven."

"Yes," mused Algernon. "I forgot to mention we believe Voldemort was looking to create his last horcrux the night he attacked the Potters. That's why his soul split and a part of it latched onto the wound in your forehead. The rest of it fled. And that would have been the part found to have been possessing poor Quirinus Quirrell."

"Those two parts looked to rejoin as they fled out the window of the Great Hall," said Harry. "That means he could still make another if - when - he manages to become - corporeal again."

"And it also means we can stop searching for the horcruxes until then," said Cygnus. "That is, of course, if the locket in Sirius's possession proves to be a horcrux."

"All that work," muttered Dumbledore. "I had no idea."

"It was not your _job_ to search for them, Dumbledore," Algernon firmly said. "It was always the responsibility of my Department. If you'd come clean earlier, we'd have been _done_ earlier."

"But the prophecy still states..."

"I know what the prophecy states," interrupted Algernon. "One must die by the hand of the other; and that can be defined in any number of ways. It does not mean that Mister Potter must face Riddle in battle, as you seem to believe."

The look on Dumbledore's face showed that was _exactly_ what he believed.

Cygnus snorted and asked, "And just how would a boy - who hasn't even finished his schooling yet - manage to defeat a powerful wizard with over sixty years of studying the arts under his belt?"

"I suspect it's with 'the power the Dark Lord knows not'," replied Dumbledore.

"So, you believe 'the power the Dark Lord knows not' is how Mister Potter will ultimately defeat him," said a disgusted Algernon. "The prophecy does not state that, Dumbledore. It only states Mister Potter will have a power Riddle doesn't know about; not that it will be the power by which he'll defeat him. You made yet _another_ bold leap in assumption. There's that inner Gryffindor of yours."

When Dumbledore looked up with an expression of slight shock and anger, Algernon asked, "That never occurred to you; did it, Dumbledore?"

After a long moment, Dumbledore quietly replied, "No; it did not."

From where he was sitting, holding hands with Daphne, Harry had an epiphany. He glared back at the old man and quietly said, "You son of a _bitch_! You were setting me up as your personal weapon. You were setting me up to face him one-on-one."

Dumbledore turned his face away in shame.

"I thought so," snarled Harry. "_That's_ why you kept using words like 'sacrifice' when you wanted to talk to me. _That's_ why you tried to keep me ignorant of my heritage, by sending me to grow up in the muggle world; so, I wouldn't know what I would actually be giving up if I - sacrificed - myself on the alter of your so-called Greater Good."

Cygnus glared at Dumbledore and snarled, "Is that true, Albus? Was it your intent to mould Mister Potter into your personal weapon against Riddle?"

"No!" snapped Dumbledore. "Harry was placed with his muggle aunt and uncle because Harry and Petunia shared the same blood as Lily. As long as Petunia accepted Harry into her home - and, as long as Harry called Petunia's home as his own - he was protected there." Then he sighed and said, "Protected from harm from the wizarding world, if not the muggle world. I never thought his relatives would harm him. I still can't understand why they would; at least, I couldn't until Harry's impassioned speech on their behalf in the Wizengamot."

"That's something _else_ you were wrong about, Albus," said Harry. "Petunia was _not_ the only living blood relative of my mother."

"What?" asked Dumbledore, clearly surprised.

"You leapt to yet _another_ incorrect assumption, Albus," Harry quietly replied. "Petunia was _not_ the only living relative of my mother. Just because the only one you knew about was Petunia, did not mean she was the only one.

"My mother had biological aunts and uncles. That's aunts and uncles that shared the same blood. There's a whole Evans family out there. Hell, there's a second cousin named Mark Evans who lived not far from me in Little Whinging with his father, a second cousin once removed closer to our same blood relative, my maternal great grandfather."

Dumbledore sank into his chair and quietly said, "I had no idea. I'm _so_ sorry, Harry."

Cygnus cleared his throat and said, "Now, Albus, let's talk about those - _oh_, so precious - blood wards. Are you aware the protection Lily imbued in Harry was irretrievably weakened when you transferred it from Harry to encompass the entire Dursley property?"

Dumbledore cringed again and quietly said, "Not at the time, no. I did not learn of that until later."

"Are you aware that - if you had left it alone - Harry would _still_ be protected by those blood wards? That it was you, and your _further_ false assumptions, that has now left Harry bereft of those protections?"

"I am now," Dumbledore quietly replied. "But, at the time, I did what I thought was best."

Harry snorted in anger and amusement. "The evil that is in the world almost always comes of ignorance, and good intentions may do as much harm as malevolence if they lack understanding," he quoted. "Albert Camus - a 20th Century French philosopher."

"Quite," sighed Dumbledore.

"You've made one _hell_ of a lot of assumptions, Albus," said Cygnus. "And most of them were wrong. _Stop_ trying to manipulate things to suit your false beliefs. _Stop_ trying to manipulate young Harry."

Dumbledore just looked down at his desk and nodded. He then said, "There is one more important matter."

Everyone waited for him to extrapolate on his claim.

"Well?" said Croaker. "Enough of your theatrics, Dumbledore. Out with it."

Dumbledore just glanced at Algernon before he quietly said, "Severus has shown me his dark mark is getting darker. It tells me Riddle is nearing the time of his return."

No one moved except Daphne, who quietly drew in a deep breath in shock.

"Do you still think Harry needs to enjoy his childhood?" asked Algernon. "It seems to me - based on that - that his time as a child is over."

When they left a little while later, Sirius floo'ed direct to the Black House and allowed Algernon in to collect the locket from the display case in the library. Cygnus floo'ed directly back to Greengrass Estate after giving Daphne a kiss on her cheek and a hug for both teens. Harry walked Daphne down to the Slytherin common room before heading up to the Eagle's nest.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The weekend passed without incident. Both Harry and Daphne slept in on the Saturday due to the late night the night before. Hedwig delivered his mail during lunch but was a bit put out he wasn't ready to accept it in the morning.

For the rest of the weekend, the Eight slogged through their homework and trained using the dummies. Harry went all out in his physical and magical training with the dummies. No one, but Daphne, understood why. And neither teen told their surprised friends.

On the Sunday, Harry received a note from Sirius letting him know the locket proved to be the elusive final horcrux.

At lunch, he passed a note to the Headmaster. The first time he'd ever done such a thing.

_AD_

_SB and AC said L was H. It's been dealt with._

_HP_

Dumbledore read the note and nodded back at Harry indicating he understood. He was pleased. And immediately burned the note.

For the next few weeks, classes passed by with the Eight getting firmly back into the routine of school. In DADA, Moody attempted to place Harry under the Imperious Curse, and Harry learned he was significantly immune to it. It seemed to please the battle-scarred man.

September passed in to October and Harry headed towards being maudlin again. On Monday, the 27th of October, they received notice the arrival of the students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang would be the evening before the Halloween Feast, which would also be the official arrival welcoming feast of the other two schools. Harry would have to attend.

After the students arrived - Beauxbatons by a huge flying Cinderella-like powder blue carriage drawn by six huge winged horses, and Durmstrang by a huge masted ship that looked like it had recently been a shipwreck dredged off the bottom of the ocean - the student body trooped inside for dinner. After waiting for the Hogwarts students to take seat - the Eight sat at Hufflepuff - the Beauxbatons students sat at Ravenclaw, and the Durmstrangs sat at Slytherin.

Harry could see the Durmstrangs quickly doffed their heavy cloaks in the warmth of the Great Hall. However, the Beauxbatons seemed to be shivering in their powder blue silk, lightweight robes.

Harry sighed and said to the others, "It looks like someone forgot to tell the Beauxbatons that Hogwarts was in Scotland, and that we're quickly heading towards winter here."

He then turned to look at the Durmstrang contingent and could see Malfoy and his minions were looking quite smug. When he scanned the faces of the Durmstrang students, he recognised the face of Victor Krum among them.

Surprised, he turned back to the others and said, "I didn't know Victor Krum was still a student."

Neville snorted and said, "Yeah, Ron Weasley looked like he was going to come in his pants when he spotted him."

"Neville!" exclaimed Hannah. "That's not very nice."

"No less true, though," said Hermione, with a smug look.

"Hermione!" squealed the girls. Hannah mock-glared at her and said, "These - _boys_ - of ours are corrupting you, _Lady_ Hermione."

Hermione had the decency to blush at the mild rebuke. Harry and Neville snickered until Daphne and Susan, who were sitting alongside them, whacked them both on the back of their heads with their bare hands.

"Hey!" they both said.

"Behave, you two," said Tracey, with a slight smile.

Up at the staff table, Filch, the caretaker, was adding chairs. He was wearing his mouldy old tailcoat in honour of the occasion. Harry was surprised to see that he added four chairs, two on either side of Dumbledore's.

"But there are only two extra people," Harry said. "Why's Filch putting out four chairs? Who else is coming?"

No one replied as the staff were now entering. They filled up to the top table taking their seats. Last in line were Professor Dumbledore, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime.

When their headmistress appeared, the pupils from Beauxbatons leapt to their feet. A few of the Hogwarts students laughed. The Beauxbatons party appeared quite unembarrassed, however, and did not resume their seats until Madame Maxime had sat down on Dumbledore's left-hand side. Dumbledore, however, remained standing; and a silence fell over the Great Hall.

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen, ghosts and - most particularly - guests," said Dumbledore, beaming around at the foreign students. "I have great pleasure in welcoming you all to Hogwarts. I hope and trust your stay here will be both comfortable and enjoyable."

One of the Beauxbatons girls still clutching a muffler around her head gave what was unmistakably a derisive laugh.

"The tournament will be officially opened at the end of the feast," said Dumbledore. "I now invite you all to eat, drink, and make yourselves at home!"

He sat down, and Harry saw Karkaroff lean forward at once and engage him in conversation.

The plates in front of them filled with food as usual. The house-elves in the kitchen seemed to have pulled out all the stops; there was a greater variety of dishes in front of them than Harry had ever seen, including several that were definitely foreign.

"What's that?" asked Neville, pointing at a large dish of some sort of shellfish stew that stood beside a large steak-and-kidney pudding.

"Bouillabaisse," said Hermione.

"Bless you," smiled Harry.

"It's French," said Hermione, "I had it on holiday, summer before last. It's very nice."

"I know," smiled Harry, helping himself to some. "That it's nice; not that you enjoyed some summer before last."

The Great Hall seemed somehow much more crowded than usual, even though there were barely twenty additional students there. Perhaps it was because their differently coloured uniforms stood out so clearly against the black of the Hogwarts' robes. Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep blood red.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once the golden plates had been wiped clean, Dumbledore stood up again. A pleasant sort of tension seemed to fill the Hall now. Harry wondered what was coming.

"The moment has come," said Dumbledore, smiling around at the sea of upturned faces. "The Tri-wizard Tournament is about to start. I would like to say a few words of explanation before we bring in the casket..."

"The what?" asked Susan.

No one replied. They were too focussed on the Headmaster's words.

"... just to clarify the procedure that we will be following this year. But first, let me introduce, for those who do not know them, Mister Bartemius Crouch, Head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation..." there was a smattering of polite applause, "... and Mister Ludo Bagman, Head of the Department of Magical Games and Sports."

There was a much louder round of applause for Bagman than for Crouch, perhaps because of his fame as a beater, or simply because he looked so much more likable. He acknowledged it with a jovial wave of his hand. Bartemius Crouch did not smile or wave when his name was announced. Remembering him in his neat suit at the Quidditch World Cup, Harry thought he looked strange in wizard's robes. His toothbrush moustache and severe parting looked very odd next to Dumbledore's long white hair and beard.

Harry thought, 'Heil Hitler.'

"Mister Bagman and Mister Crouch have worked tirelessly over the last few months on the arrangements for the Tri-wizard Tournament," Dumbledore continued, "and they will be joining me, Professor Karkaroff, and Madame Maxime on the panel that will judge the champions' efforts."

At the mention of the word 'champions', the attentiveness of the listening students seemed to sharpen. Perhaps Dumbledore had noticed their sudden stillness, for he smiled as he said, "The casket, then, if you please, Mister Filch."

Filch, who had been lurking unnoticed in a far corner of the Hall, now approached Dumbledore carrying a great wooden chest encrusted with jewels. It looked extremely old. A murmur of excited interest rose from the watching students; Dennis Creevey actually stood on his chair to see it properly, but, being so tiny, his head hardly rose above anyone else's.

"The instructions for the tasks the champions will face this year have already been examined by Mister Crouch and Mister Bagman," said Dumbledore as Filch placed the chest carefully on the table before him, "and they have made the necessary arrangements for each challenge. There will be three tasks, spaced throughout the school year, and they will test the champions in many different ways; their magical prowess - their daring - their powers of deduction - and, of course, their ability to cope with danger."

At this last word, the Hall was filled with a silence so absolute that nobody seemed to be breathing.

"As you know, three champions compete in the tournament," Dumbledore went on calmly, "one from each of the participating schools. They will be marked on how well they perform each of the Tournament tasks and the champion with the highest total after task three will win the Tri-wizard Cup. The champions will be chosen by an impartial selector - the Goblet of Fire."

Dumbledore now took out his wand and tapped three times upon the top of the casket. The lid creaked slowly open. Dumbledore reached inside it and pulled out a large, roughly hewn wooden cup. It would have been entirely unremarkable had it not been full to the brim with dancing blue-white flames.

Dumbledore closed the casket and placed the goblet carefully on top of it, where it would be clearly visible to everyone in the Hall.

"Anybody wishing to submit themselves as champion must write their name and school clearly upon a slip of parchment and drop it into the goblet," said Dumbledore. "Aspiring champions have twenty-four hours in which to put their names forward. Tomorrow night, Halloween, the goblet will return the names of the three it has judged most worthy to represent their schools. The goblet will be placed in the entrance hall tonight, where it will be freely accessible to all those wishing to compete.

"To ensure that no underage student yields to temptation," said Dumbledore, "I will be drawing an age line around the Goblet of Fire once it has been placed in the entrance hall. Nobody under the age of seventeen will be able to cross this line.

"Finally, I wish to impress upon..." Dumbledore continued.

Harry suddenly burst into laughter. It was easily heard by all, due to how quiet everyone was.

Dumbledore frowned back. "Have I said something funny, Mister Potter?"

Standing, Harry said, "Yes, sir; very much so."

When Dumbledore didn't respond but, instead, appeared to be waiting, Harry continued, "If all you're going to put around the Goblet is an age line, sir, it seems you're not really interested in keeping out those who are _not_ of age."

"I assure you, Mister Potter," said the old man, puffing himself up, "an age line will be sufficient."

"Uh-huh!" replied Harry. Looking around the Hall, he said, "I offer twenty galleons to any _of age_ student who will submit the name - Ron Weasley of Hogwarts - to the Goblet, for me."

"What?" squeaked young Mister Weasley.

Turning to the boy, Harry said loudly, "Well, you've been telling everyone in range of your proud boasts you want to compete. I'm giving you the chance."

"I'll take that!" said Marcus Flint, standing up and grinning at the Slytherin table.

"Stop!" barked the Headmaster, angrily, before Harry could accept the offer. "I - accept your point, Mister Potter," he said more calmly. "I shall place other protections around the Goblet."

"Thank you, sir," said Harry. "Could you also include in those 'other protections' wards that would stop someone using a house elf, post owl, or other creature from dropping names in. You also might want to make sure someone can't just wad the parchment into a ball and lob it in, or make a paper aeroplane and simply allow it to glide in.

"Then, of course, someone could levitate the cup, or the stand on which it's placed, out of the warded area, enter the name and levitate it back. Or, two people working together with a piece of rope..."

"Enough!" bellowed Dumbledore glaring back. They locked gazes for a few moments with Harry smirking before the Headmaster almost visibly wilted and sighed. "I shall ensure that the Goblet is well protected, Mister Potter. That will be _enough_ from you."

Harry gave an almost mocking bow before he retook his seat.

"As I was saying," said the Headmaster, back to the entire Hall, "I wish to impress upon you all, that any of you wishing to compete need to understand that this tournament is not to be entered into lightly. Once a champion has been selected by the Goblet of Fire, he or she is obliged to see the tournament through to the end. The placing of your name in the Goblet constitutes a binding, magical contract. There can be no change of heart once you have become a champion. Please be very sure, therefore, that you are wholeheartedly prepared to play before you drop your name into the Goblet. Now, I think it is time for bed. Good night to you all."

Harry and the group rose with the other students.

"I have a _really_ bad feeling about this," said Harry to Daphne as they began to leave.

"You're not actually thinking..." started Daphne.

"_Hell no!_" stated Harry, a little loudly. "I have absolutely _no_ intention of taking part in the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I do _not_ have a death wish."

They were level with the Slytherin table now, and Karkaroff had just bustled up to his students.

"Back to the ship, then," he was saying. "Viktor, how are you feeling? Did you eat enough? Should I send for some mulled wine from the kitchens?"

Harry saw Krum shake his head as he pulled his furs back on.

"Professor, I vood like some vine," said one of the other Durmstrang boys, hopefully.

"I wasn't offering it to you, Poliakoff," snapped Karkaroff, his warmly paternal air vanishing in an instant. "I notice you have dribbled food all down the front of your robes again, disgusting boy."

Karkaroff turned and led his students toward the doors, reaching them at exactly the same moment as Harry and the Seven. Harry stopped to let him walk through first.

"Thank you," said Karkaroff carelessly, glancing at him. And then he froze. He turned his head back to Harry and stared at him as though he couldn't believe his eyes. Behind their Headmaster, the students from Durmstrang came to a halt, too. Karkaroff's eyes moved slowly up Harry's face and fixed upon where his scar should be.

Harry smirked back. "It's not polite to stare, Headmaster," he said.

The Durmstrang students were staring curiously at Harry too. The boy with food all down his front nudged the girl next to him and pointed openly at Harry.

"Yeah, that's Harry Potter," said a growling voice from behind them.

Professor Karkaroff spun around. Mad-Eye Moody was standing there, leaning heavily on his staff, his magical eye glaring unblinkingly at the Durmstrang headmaster.

The colour drained from Karkaroff's face as Harry watched. A terrible look of mingled fury and fear came over him.

"You!" he snarled, staring at Moody as though unsure he was really seeing him.

"Me," said Moody grimly. "And, unless you've got anything to say to Potter, Karkaroff, you might want to move. You're blocking the doorway."

It was true. Half the students in the Hall were now waiting behind them, looking over one another's shoulders to see what was causing the holdup.

Without another word, Professor Karkaroff swept his students away with him. Moody watched him until he was out of sight, his magical eye fixed upon his back, a look of intense dislike upon his mutilated face.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As the next day was Saturday, most students would normally have broken their fast late. The group, however, were not alone in rising much earlier than they usually did on weekends.

When they went down into the Entrance Hall, they saw about twenty people milling about it, some of them eating toast, all examining the Goblet of Fire. It had been placed in the center of the Hall on the stool that normally bore the Sorting Hat. A thin golden line had been traced on the floor, forming a circle ten feet around it in every direction.

"Anyone put their name in yet?" Harry heard Ron Weasley ask a third-year girl eagerly.

"All the Durmstrang lot," she replied. "But I haven't seen anyone from Hogwarts yet."

Someone laughed behind Harry. Turning, he saw Fred, George, and Lee Jordan hurrying down the staircase, all three of them looking extremely excited.

"Done it," Fred said in a triumphant whisper to Harry. "Just taken it."

"Taken what?" said Ron.

"The Aging Potion, dung brains," said Fred.

"One drop each," said George, rubbing his hands together with glee. "We only need to be a few months older."

"We're going to split the thousand Galleons between the three of us if one of us wins," said Lee, grinning broadly.

"I'm not sure that's going to work, you know," said Hermione warningly. "I'm sure Dumbledore will have thought of this; especially, after what Harry said last night."

Fred, George, and Lee ignored her.

"Ready?" Fred said to the other two, quivering with excitement. "C'mon, then - I'll go first."

Harry watched, fascinated, as Fred pulled a slip of parchment out of his pocket bearing the words 'Fred Weasley - Hogwarts'. Fred walked right up to the edge of the line and stood there, rocking on his toes like a diver preparing for a fifty-foot drop.

Then, with the eyes of every person in the Entrance Hall upon him, he took a great breath and stepped over the line.

For a split second Harry thought it had worked - George certainly thought so, for he let out a yell of triumph and leapt after Fred. But, next moment, there was a loud sizzling sound, and both twins were hurled out of the golden circle as though they had been hit by Banishing Charms.

They landed painfully, ten feet away on the cold stone floor. To add insult to injury, there was a loud popping noise, and both of them sprouted identical long white beards.

The Entrance Hall rang with laughter. Even Fred and George joined in, once they had gotten to their feet and taken a good look at each other's beards.

"I did warn you," said a deep, amused voice, and everyone turned to see Professor Dumbledore coming out of the Great Hall. He surveyed Fred and George, his eyes twinkling. "I suggest you both go up to Madam Pomfrey. She is already tending to Miss Fawcett, of Ravenclaw, and Mister Summers, of Hufflepuff; both of whom decided to age themselves up a little too. Though, I must say, neither of their beards is anything like as fine as yours."

Fred and George set off for the hospital wing, accompanied by Lee, who was howling with laughter. The group, also chuckling, went in to breakfast.

The decorations in the Great Hall had changed this morning. As it was Halloween, a cloud of live bats was fluttering around the enchanted ceiling, while hundreds of carved pumpkins leered from every corner. Harry led the way over to Dean and Seamus, who were discussing those Hogwarts students of seventeen or over who might be entering.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

While they were breaking their fasts at the Gryffindor table, the group talked amongst themselves.

"Listen!" said Hermione suddenly.

People were cheering out in the Entrance Hall. They all swivelled around in their seats and saw Angelina Johnson coming into the Hall, grinning in an embarrassed sort of way. Angelina came over to them, sat down, and said, "Well, I've done it! Just put my name in!"

Later, the students from Beauxbatons were coming through the front doors from the grounds, among them, the veela-girl. Those gathered around the Goblet of Fire stood back to let them pass, watching eagerly.

Madame Maxime entered the hall behind her students and organized them into a line. One by one, the Beauxbatons students stepped across the age line and dropped their slips of parchment into the blue-white flames. As each name entered the fire, it turned briefly red and emitted sparks.

When all the Beauxbatons students had submitted their names, Madame Maxime led them back out of the Hall and out onto the grounds again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The Halloween feast seemed to take forever. Daphne noticed Harry didn't seem to fancy the extravagantly prepared food on the Hufflepuff table, where they were sitting. But, it was _that_ anniversary. Harry simply wanted the plates to clear, and to hear who had been selected as champions. Then he could get out of there.

Finally, the plates were cleared and there was a sharp upswing in the level of noise within the Hall. It died away again as Dumbledore rose to his feet. On either side of him, Professor Karkaroff and Madame Maxime looked as tense and expectant as anyone. Ludo Bagman was beaming and winking at various students. Mister Crouch, however, looked quite uninterested, almost bored.

"Well, the Goblet is almost ready to make its decision," said Dumbledore, in a clear and carrying voice holding his hands up in a double shooshing gesture. "I estimate it will require another minute.

"Now, when the champions' names are called, I would ask them please to come up to the top of the Hall, walk along the staff table, and go through into the next chamber..." he indicated the door behind the staff table, "... where they will be receiving their first instructions."

He took out his wand and gave a great sweeping wave with it; at once, all the candles except those inside the carved pumpkins were extinguished, plunging them into a state of semidarkness. The Goblet of Fire now seemed to shine more brightly than anything else in the Great Hall. The sparkling bright, bluey-whiteness of the flames was almost painful on the eyes. Everyone watched, waiting. A few people kept checking their watches.

The flames inside the Goblet turned suddenly red. Sparks began to fly from it. Next moment, a tongue of flame shot into the air, a charred piece of parchment fluttered out of it. The whole room gasped.

Dumbledore caught the piece of parchment and held it at arm's length so he could read it by the light of the returned blue-white flames, which had turned back to their pre-red state.

"The champion for Durmstrang," he read, in a strong, clear voice, "will be Viktor Krum."

Applause and cheering swept the Hall. Harry saw Viktor Krum rise from the Slytherin table and slouch up toward Dumbledore; he turned right, walked along the staff table, and disappeared through the door into the next chamber.

"Bravo, Viktor!" boomed Karkaroff, so loudly that everyone could hear him, even over all the applause. "Knew you had it in you!"

The clapping and chatting died down. Now everyone's attention was focused again on the Goblet, which had turned red once more. A second piece of parchment shot out of it, propelled by the flames.

"The champion for Beauxbatons," said Dumbledore, "is Fleur Delacour!"

"Oh look, they're all disappointed," Hermione said over the noise, nodding toward the remainder of the Beauxbatons party. 'Disappointed' was a bit of an understatement, Harry thought. Two of the girls who had not been selected had dissolved into tears and were sobbing with their heads on their arms.

When Miss Delacour had also vanished into the side chamber, silence fell again. The Hogwarts champion was next.

The flames within the Goblet turned red once more. The tongue of flame shot high into the air, and from its tip Dumbledore pulled the third piece of parchment.

"The Hogwarts champion," he called, "is Cedric Diggory!"

Every single Hufflepuff had jumped to his or her feet, screaming and stamping, as Cedric made his way past them, grinning broadly, and headed off toward the chamber behind the Professors' table. Harry breathed a sigh of relief. Indeed, the applause for Cedric went on so long that it was some time before Dumbledore could make himself heard again.

"Excellent!" Dumbledore called happily as, at last, the tumult died down. "Well, we now have our three champions. I am sure I can count upon all of you, including the remaining students from Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, to give your champions every ounce of support you can muster. By cheering your champion on, you will contribute in a very real..."

But Dumbledore suddenly stopped speaking, and it was apparent to everybody what had distracted him.

The fire in the Goblet had just turned red again. Sparks were flying out of it. A long flame shot suddenly into the air, and borne upon it was another piece of parchment.

Dumbledore reached out a long hand and seized the parchment. He held it out and stared in shock at the name written upon it. There was a long pause, during which Dumbledore stared at the slip in his hands, and everyone in the room stared at Dumbledore. And then Dumbledore cleared his throat. He called, "Harry Potter."

Harry sat there for a few moments. He was stunned. 'I don't freaking believe this!' he thought.

Looking to his friends he shook his head and quietly said, "It wasn't me. I didn't do it."

There was no applause. Angry murmurings filled the Hall. Some students were standing up to get a better look at Harry as he sat, frozen, in his seat.

Up at the top table, Professor McGonagall had got to her feet, stalked quickly around the end of the table and hurried over to Dumbledore. She began to whisper urgently to him, while he bent his ear toward her, frowning slightly.

At the top table, Professor Dumbledore had straightened up, nodding to Professor McGonagall.

"Harry Potter!" he called again. "Harry! Up here, if you please!"

"Go on," Hermione whispered, giving Harry a slight push.

Harry rose to his feet, while Daphne tried to hold onto him in fear. He set off up the gap between the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables.

It felt like an immensely long walk. After what seemed like an hour, he was right in front of Dumbledore, feeling the stares of all the teachers upon him.

"Well - through the door, Harry," said Dumbledore. He wasn't smiling.

"No, Headmaster, I will not," said Harry firmly back.

Turning around he glared back across the students. "You all heard me tell the Headmaster only twenty-four hours ago, that there were ways past his - efforts - to ensure only those of age could be entered in this damned Tournament. You also heard me try to tell him many ways how his ludicrous protections could be bypassed.

"Then he stood up here - right where he is now, in fact - and told everyone that he would have up sufficient protections. He is supposed to be among the most powerful wizards - and witches - in the world. This - should _not_ have been beyond his skills to prevent.

"So, he is either _incompetent_; or, he is a _liar_!"

The student population gasped in shock.

"_Mister Potter!_" barked the headmaster, glaring back, angrily. "I will not be spoken to that way!"

"Then _leave!_" Harry spun to the man and barked right back, just as angrily.

Turning back to the students he popped his wand out of its holster and held the tip to his chest. In a loud and clear voice, he said, "I, Harry James Potter, do swear I did _not_ enter my name in the Goblet of Fire; did _not_, in _any_ way, request or coerce another, to enter my name in the Goblet of Fire; do not know _who_ it was who entered my name in the Goblet of Fire; and do _not_ wish to have any part in the Tri-Wizard Tournament other than as a spectator. So say I; _so mote it be!_"

There was a great pulse of magic centred from Harry's chest, signifying the oath was made. He then gathered his magic to extraordinary levels before bringing to his mind his happiest memory of his time with Daphne. It was the night he got to play with 'the girls'. Then he cast. "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Prongs leapt from his wand tip. When his hooves struck the stone floor there was clearly heard the sound of hooves upon that stone.

Harry continued to pump magic into the patronus as it took on a decidedly solid shape. It turned about and looked at Harry, almost as if it was waiting for him to say something.

"Thank you, Prongs," said Harry, before allowing the form to dissipate.

Looking out of the now clearly stunned audience, he said, "If _anyone_ makes any inference otherwise, you _will_ face me in a duel. I will _not_ be merciful. I will _not_ tolerate any of the type of nonsense that went on while the basilisk was roaming the school."

Turning back to the visibly shaken headmaster and indicating the room he had been indicated to enter, he said, "_That_ room is where the champions are to go. I am _not_ a champion." He then turned away and looked to the group. "Seven; we're leaving."

He then began to walk back up the Hall towards the doors leading out to the Entrance Hall as the others rose and began to hurry to follow him. All eyes upon him.

When he was about two-thirds of the way to the doors, they suddenly slammed closed.

"Mister Potter!" called Dumbledore. Harry turned to look back. "No matter _how_ your name came to be submitted to the Goblet - nor, how you came to be chosen - you _have_ been chosen. You _must_ compete, or you will lose your _magic_ and, perhaps, your very _life_!"

"Perhaps, Headmaster," replied Harry firmly. "However, just because I _may_ be required to compete - and I will be discussing this matter with my legal guardians and legal counsel, I assure you - it does not mean I am a champion.

"As such, I am _not_ required to consider myself one. So, open these doors or the student populace shall discover just how strong they're going to have to be to shield against me if they foolishly choose to ignore my warning."

"No, Mister Potter," glared the old man. "You must join the other champions."

"Very well, Headmaster. Though I cannot fathom why you _constantly_ want to be publicly humiliated, it appears you have _not yet_ learned the lesson it does you no good to try to order me about when you _do not_ have the _authority_ to do so," said Harry, before he began to gather his magic in a mighty surge. He turned back to the doors and raised his wand, "_Deprimo!_" he shouted, bring his wand down.

The spell impacted the middle of the doors at chest height and, with a resounding crash, blew a large hole right through the middle of them that reached all the way to the ground. The splinters of wood sprayed across the width of the Entrance Hall beyond, knocking over a couple of suits of armour in the process, before many bounced off the wall on the other side.

Many nearby students gasped in shock at the display of raw power.

Harry strode forward with the Seven following behind, and walked out through the very large hole and out of the Great Hall.

Behind them, the noise level rose dramatically and quite quickly.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	63. Investigating

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Three - Investigating**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

In the other room and quietly waiting, wondering what was taking so long, Viktor Krum, Cedric Diggory, and Fleur Delacour were grouped around the fire. They looked strangely impressive, silhouetted against the flames. Krum, hunched up and brooding, was leaning against the mantelpiece, slightly apart from the other two. Cedric was standing with his hands behind his back, staring into the fire. Fleur Delacour looked around when the door finally opened and threw back her locks of long, silvery hair.

Ludo Bagman entered the room. "Extraordinary!" he muttered, pacing the floor. "Absolutely extraordinary! Gentlemen - lady," he added, approaching the fireside and addressing the other three. "There is a fourth champion!"

The door behind them opened again, and a large group of people came in: Professor Dumbledore, followed closely by Mister Crouch, Professor Karkaroff, Madame Maxime, Professor McGonagall, and Professor Snape. The champions heard the buzzing of the hundreds of students on the other side of the wall, before Professor McGonagall closed the door.

"Madame Maxime!" said Fleur at once, striding over to her headmistress. "He iz saying zat zere is anuzzer champion!"

Madame Maxime had drawn herself up to her full, and considerable, height. The top of her handsome head brushed the candle-filled chandelier, and her gigantic black-satin bosom swelled.

"What is ze meaning of zis, Dumbly-dorr?" she said imperiously.

"I'd rather like to know that myself, Dumbledore," said Professor Karkaroff. He was wearing a steely smile, and his blue eyes were like chips of ice. "_Two_ Hogwarts champions? Or, rather, two competitors? I don't remember anyone telling me the host school is allowed two - or have I not read the rules carefully enough?"

He gave a short and nasty laugh.

"_C'est_ impossible," said Madame Maxime, whose enormous hand with its many superb opals was resting upon Fleur's shoulder. "Ogwarts cannot 'ave two champions - two competitors. It is most injust."

"We were under the impression that your Age Line and other safeguards would keep out younger contestants, Dumbledore," said Karkaroff, his steely smile still in place; though, his eyes were colder than ever. "Otherwise, we would, of course, have brought along a wider selection of candidates from our own schools."

"It's no one's fault but Potter's, Karkaroff," said Snape softly. His black eyes were alight with malice. "Don't go blaming Dumbledore for Potter's determination to break rules. He has been crossing lines ever since he arrived here..."

"Thank you, Severus. That will be enough," said Dumbledore firmly, and Snape went quiet, though his eyes still glinted malevolently through his curtain of greasy black hair. "The oath young Harry made is quite clear. He did not choose to enter this competition."

"Ah, but of course 'e is lying!" cried Madame Maxime. Snape was now shaking his head, his lip curling.

"_It was an oath on his magic and his life, Madam!_" said Professor McGonagall sharply. "He could _not_ have crossed the Age Line, or bypassed the other protections. I am sure we are all agreed on _that_..."

"Dumbly-dorr must 'ave made a mistake wiz hiz protections," said Madame Maxime, shrugging.

"It is possible, of course," said Dumbledore politely.

"Dumbledore, you know _perfectly well_ you _did not make a mistake_!" said Professor McGonagall angrily. "_Really_, what nonsense! Harry could not have bypassed the protections and his oath confirms it!" She shot a very angry look at Professor Snape.

"Mister Crouch - Mister Bagman," said Karkaroff, his voice unctuous once more, "you are our - er - objective judges. Surely you will agree that this is most irregular?"

Bagman wiped his round, boyish face with his handkerchief and looked at Crouch, who was standing outside the circle of the firelight, his face half hidden in shadow. He looked slightly eerie, the half darkness making him look much older, giving him an almost skull-like appearance. When he spoke, however, it was in his usual curt voice.

"We must follow the rules, and the rules state clearly that, those people whose names' come out of the Goblet of Fire, are bound to compete in the tournament. However, as Mister Potter intimated, it does _not_ mean he is a _champion_."

"Well, Barty knows the rule book back to front," said Bagman, beaming and turning back to Karkaroff and Madame Maxime, as though the matter was now closed.

"I insist upon resubmitting the names of the rest of my students," said Karkaroff.

He had dropped his unctuous tone and his smile now. His face wore a very ugly look indeed. "You will set up the Goblet of Fire, once more, and we will continue adding names until each school have two - competitors. It's only fair, Dumbledore."

"But, Karkaroff, it doesn't work like that," said Bagman. "The Goblet of Fire's just gone out - it won't reignite until the start of the next tournament..."

"... In which Durmstrang will most certainly not be competing!" exploded Karkaroff. "After all our meetings and negotiations and compromises, I _little_ expected something of this nature to occur! I have half a mind to leave now!"

"Empty threat, Karkaroff," growled a voice from near the door. "You can't leave with your champion now. He's got to compete. They've _all_ got to compete. Binding magical contract, like Dumbledore said. Convenient, eh?"

Moody had just entered the room. He limped toward the fire, and with every right step he took, there was that loud clunk.

"Convenient?" said Karkaroff. "I'm afraid I don't understand you, Moody."

Karkaroff was trying to sound disdainful, as though what Moody was saying was barely worth his notice, but his hands gave him away; they had balled themselves into fists.

"Don't you?" Moody quietly asked. "It's very simple, Karkaroff. Someone put Potter's name in that Goblet knowing he'd have to compete if it came out."

"Evidently, someone 'oo wished to give 'Ogwarts two bites at ze apple!" said Madame Maxime.

"I quite agree, Madame Maxime," said Karkaroff, bowing to her. "I shall be lodging complaints with the Ministry of Magic and the International Confederation of Wizards..."

"If anyone's got reason to complain, it's Potter," growled Moody, "But - funny thing - I don't hear anyone, other than Professor McGonagall, acknowledging that."

"Why should 'e complain?" burst out Fleur Delacour, stamping her foot. "E 'as ze chance to compete, 'asn't 'e? We 'ave all been 'oping to be chosen for weeks and weeks! Ze honour for our schools! A thousand Galleons in prize money - zis is a chance many would die for!"

"Potter neither _needs_ the money _nor_ the fame. He clearly knows that," said Moody, with the merest trace of a growl. "Maybe someone's hoping Potter is going to _die_ in it."

An extremely tense silence followed these words. Ludo Bagman, who was looking very anxious indeed, bounced nervously up and down on his feet and said, "Moody, old man - what a thing to say!"

"We all know Professor Moody considers the morning wasted if he hasn't discovered at least six plots to murder him before lunchtime," said Karkaroff loudly. "Apparently he is now teaching his students to fear assassination too. An odd quality in a Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, Dumbledore; but, no doubt, you had your reasons."

"Imagining things, am I?" growled Moody. "Seeing things, eh? It was a skilled witch or wizard who put the boy's name in that Goblet..."

"Ah, what evidence is zere of zat?" said Madame Maxime, throwing up her huge hands.

"Because they hoodwinked a very powerful magical object!" roared Moody. "It would have needed an exceptionally strong Confundus Charm to bamboozle that Goblet into forgetting that only three schools compete in the tournament - I'm guessing they submitted Potter's name under a fourth school, to make sure he was the only one in his category."

"You seem to have given this a great deal of thought, Moody," said Karkaroff coldly, "and a very ingenious theory it is - though, of course, I heard you recently got it into your head that one of your birthday presents contained a cunningly disguised basilisk egg, and smashed it to pieces before realizing it was a carriage clock. So you'll understand if we don't take you entirely seriously..."

"There are those who'll turn innocent occasions to their advantage," Moody retorted in a menacing voice. "It's my job to think the way dark wizards do, Karkaroff - as you ought to remember..."

"Alastor!" said Dumbledore warningly. Moody fell silent, though still surveying Karkaroff with satisfaction - Karkaroff's face was burning.

"How this situation arose, we do not know," said Dumbledore, speaking to everyone gathered in the room. "It seems to me, however, that we have no choice but to accept it. Both Cedric and Harry have been chosen to compete in the Tournament. This, therefore, they will do..."

"Ah, but Dumbly-dorr..."

"My dear Madame Maxime, if you have an alternative, I would be delighted to hear it."

Dumbledore waited, but Madame Maxime did not speak, she merely glared. She wasn't the only one either. Snape looked furious; Karkaroff livid; Bagman, however, looked rather excited.

"Well, shall we crack on, then?" he said, rubbing his hands together and smiling around the room. "Got to give our champions their instructions, haven't we? Barty, want to do the honours?"

Crouch seemed to come out of a deep reverie. "Yes," he said, "instructions. Yes - the first task."

He moved forward into the firelight. There were dark shadows beneath his eyes and a thin, papery look about his wrinkled skin. "Someone will need to pass this information on to Potter," he said.

"The first task is designed to test your daring," he told Cedric, Fleur, and Viktor, "so we are not going to be telling you what it is. Courage in the face of the unknown is an important quality in a wizard - very important.

"The first task will take place on the 24th of November, in front of the other students and the panel of judges.

"The champions - competitors - are not permitted to ask for or accept help of any kind from their teachers to complete the tasks in the tournament. The champions will face the first challenge armed only with their wands. They will receive information about the second task when the first is over. Owing to the demanding and time-consuming nature of the tournament, the champions are exempted from end-of-year tests."

Crouch turned to look at Dumbledore. "I think that's all, is it, Albus?"

"I think so," said Dumbledore, who was looking at Crouch with mild concern. "Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay at Hogwarts tonight, Barty?"

"No, Dumbledore; I must get back to the Ministry," replied Crouch. "It is a very busy, very difficult time at the moment - I've left young Weatherby in charge. Very enthusiastic - a little overenthusiastic, if truth be told..."

"You'll come and have a drink before you go, at least?" asked Dumbledore.

"Come on, Barry, I'm staying!" said Bagman brightly. "It's all happening at Hogwarts now, you know, much more exciting here than at the office!"

"I think not, Ludo," said Crouch with a touch of his old impatience.

"Professor Karkaroff - Madame Maxime - a nightcap?" said Dumbledore.

But Madame Maxime had already put her arm around Fleur's shoulders and was leading her swiftly out of the room. They were both talking very fast in French as they went off into the Great Hall. Karkaroff beckoned to Krum, and they, too, exited, though in silence.

"Cedric, I suggest you go up to bed," said Dumbledore, smiling at him. "I am sure Hufflepuff are waiting to celebrate with you, and it would be a shame to deprive them of this excellent excuse to make a great deal of mess and noise."

Cedric nodded and left.

The Great Hall was deserted now; the candles had burned low, giving the jagged smiles of the pumpkins an eerie, flickering quality.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry paced the floor in 'their' room. Daphne sat propped against one of the couches with her arms crossed under her breasts, watching him. She knew not to say anything when Harry was thinking aloud. The others were quietly discussing this latest development and pretending to ignore Harry while he paced.

"Alright," he said. "My name's been entered into a magically binding contract. _I_ didn't enter it, I didn't have anyone else do it for me, and I don't know who did it. Contracts must be willingly entered by all parties. You cannot legally be the _unwilling_ party of a contract. So why am I still bound by it?

"Clearly, the Goblet negates the need for a party to be willingly involved. Or, does it? I need to find out how contracts stood when the Goblet was first created. Maybe they didn't have the condition those involved in the contract had to be willingly involved. It won't then recognise I'm unwilling as it's irrelevant. In which case, I won't know one way or the other until I would otherwise lose my magic. _Damn!_

"Maybe the Goblet recognises changes to magical law and, because I was unwillingly entered, it now won't force me to compete. No, if that was the case, it wouldn't have spat my name out in the first place. Therefore, the Goblet recognises I'm held to the contract. _Double damn!_

"Hang on, what was the name on the slip of parchment that came out of the Goblet? Was it 'Harry Potter' or 'Harry _James_ Potter'? Perhaps, that means there's a Harry Potter out there without a middle name who's required to compete in the tournament. Plus, there seemed to be no school written on the slip of paper, as Dumbledore didn't call one out. Everyone who wanted to submit their name was required to write both their name and school on the slip. If Harry Potter, whoever he is, doesn't attend a school, he cannot very well write the name of a school upon it.

"But, did Diggory, Krum or that French bint include their middle names when they submitted _their_ slips? I need to ask them. If they didn't, then it's not really going to matter if my middle name was on the slip or not.

"And the school? Invisible ink, perhaps? Or a concealing spell? I'll have to give the slip a careful once over. That means I'm going to need to get it off Dumbledore, or get him to check.

"I'm also going to need to read the rules of the tournament, and the wording of the contract if the two are separate documents. Their behaviour, last night, tells me they will be.

"Okay, that means I need to: One - ask for a copy of both the contract and rules and read over them. Two - ask the other three if they submitted their slips with their middle names on them; if they have middle names. Three - get the slip off Dumbledore and, between us, check to see if the name of the school is written on the slip. And, four - check if there are other Harry Potters out there that may be bound by the contract."

"Then it sounds as if you have a course of action to proceed," said Daphne, finally speaking up. "Perhaps we should leave it at that until you've gone through those points."

Harry sighed and said, "Yeah, I suppose. I _still_ wonder why someone would go to all the effort, though."

"I think it's obvious," replied Daphne, wryly and unhappily. "Someone wants you to be killed."

Harry snorted and said, "Yeah, but it sounds like a lot of hard work just to get me dead. Hell, anyone stepping out from behind a tree, firing the Killing Curse at me, and running away, would accomplish the same thing for a great deal less effort."

"First thing, though, is to contact Uncle Cygnus, Aunt Isabel, Sirius, Aunt Amelia and Gran," said Hermione, from where she was sitting at one of the study tables. "I've started writing down what we're going to need them to get for us.

"One," said Hermione, getting things back on track. "Notifying Harry's guardians is our first priority.

"Two - Legal representation to go over the contract and rules that bind you to participating in the tournament. And if there's anything _else_ you need to do besides compete in the tasks..."

"What do you mean, 'anything else'?" asked Harry.

"Well, Dumbledore tried to get you to go into the champions room with the other - I mean, the three champions," she replied. "What if the contract states you had to do that? Plus, there could be other things you have to do besides compete. In the muggle world, there are often publicity functions you're required to attend that are included in such contracts. We need to find out what you're actually required to do."

"And what does it mean by 'compete'?" asked Daphne. "If he steps in to the ring - or, whatever - and forfeits; could that be considered competing? Or, does he have to make a good old 'go' of it, in the spirit of the tournament? Can he also drop out at any time after he begins?"

"And what if he's injured and unable to continue, or even start?" asked Susan. "Surely, they wouldn't be that stupid as to leave something like that out."

Everyone just looked back at her.

"Then again, maybe they are," she said.

Hermione gave a little throat cough and said, "Three - besides legal representation looking over the contract and rules, we need to do it, too."

"Four - As this could turn into a nightmare, publicity-wise, can we hire a public relations expert or media advisor? Is one even allowed?"

"I could do that," said Luna wistfully.

Harry stared back at the girl for a few moments before he grinned. "Luna, how would you like to buy the exclusive rights to Harry James Potter, otherwise known by the appellation The-Boy-Who-Lived?"

Everyone but Luna looked back at Harry in shock. Daphne did for a few moments before she suddenly started to grin. Then Tracey followed suit.

Luna thought a moment and said, "That depends on what you mean by 'exclusive rights', Harry. Are we just talking as in regards to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, or beyond that? And, just the story, or are we including pictures and other images? Are we talking wizarding Britain only, or world-wide? And, finally, what about merchandise?"

Harry grinned, while Daphne and Tracey laughed. The others just looked stunned that something that serious could ever be uttered by dreamy little Luna.

"Well," replied Harry. "I see I'm dealing with a wise negotiator."

Musing, he said, "How about exclusive rights to use my name in any form - including, but not limited to - Harry Potter, Harry James Potter, Harry J Potter, and H J Potter; any appellations that would identify me specifically, including but not limited to The-Boy-Who-Lived, The-Man-Who-Lived, the Potter Boy, Heir Potter, the Potter Heir and the betrothed of Daphne Greengrass; my image or likeness in any form, including but not limited to photographic, portraiture, caricature, artistic rendering, toy and model.

"The exclusive rights will cover all media, including but not limited to the printed word such as newspapers and magazines, radio such as wizarding radio, posters, books, games, toys and memorabilia.

"Coverage will be world-wide. And time scale will be - for the 1994-95 school year, inclusive. We can revisit it, after then, to see if we are both happy with the arrangement."

"Further conditions are: Everything you print or publish about me will be the truth. You may not embellish with unconfirmed or unsubstantiated claims. Further, it must not lead to your readership being misled as to the truth.

"To sweeten the pot, I'll also allow you to on sell these exclusive rights so long as the aforementioned conditions are kept, verbatim. However, you may only ask for no more than one Galleon for the rights. And, furthermore, I shall make myself available to you, at a minimum, of three one-on-one interviews for the duration of the contract.

"As for how much this will cost you; I believe I'm being fair in asking in return - five Knuts. What say you, Miss Lovegood?"

Harry heard someone, he thought Hermione, give a strangled cough.

Luna seemed to think about it for a while before she replied, "I think our readers may be more interested in reading how the search for Crumple-Horned Snorkacks is faring, and about our ongoing investigation into the Minister's secret army of Heliopaths, rather than read much about you, Harry. I think a fairer price would be - two Knuts."

"Harsh, woman," retorted Harry, having a ball. "However, you may be right. Four Knuts."

"Let us not - quibble, Harry," she replied with a smirk of her own. "Three Knuts is a fair price for a friend."

Harry mock-sighed and said, "You drive a hard bargain, Miss Lovegood. Three Knuts, it is. However, I must insist it be my own legal representation who draws up the contract."

"I suppose I can allow that," she said. "But, I - or another representative of Lovegood Publishing - may seek to make minor amendments before agreeing in writing. Be that as it may, we have an agreement in principle."

Then they both just grinned at each other.

"What the _bloody hell_ just happened?" asked Neville, stunned, as they stopped talking for a few moments.

Daphne just burst into laughter before she said, "Harry just figured out a way to stop people in the media writing about him for the rest of the school year."

"Alright," said Harry calming down from his own laughter. "Hermione's been most patient with us. But, I've some work to do tonight before I can think of heading for bed." Looking over at Hermione, who had a pleased smile on her face, he asked, "Hermione? What do I need to do?"

"It's '_we_', Harry; what do _we_ need to do," she corrected. "We need to write to Uncle Cygnus, Aunty Isabel, Sirius, Madam Longbottom and Aunt Amelia. In one of those letters, we need one of them to organise legal representation for you ready to go over the contract and rules. That's all for tonight.

"Tomorrow, however, we need to talk to Headmaster Dumbledore to get a copy of both the rules of the tournament, and the contract that states you must compete; and the slip of paper on which your name was written. Or, at least get him to see if it provides any clue as to how it ended up in the Goblet. What comes after that will be, what will be. Agreed?"

"Agreed," they all said one way or another.

"Then, you'd better come over here and get writing, Harry," she said, indicating the study area next to her own.

Harry rose and made his way over.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On entering the Great Hall in the morning, Harry made his way directly to the head table. Dumbledore was already there.

"Headmaster," said Harry.

"Ah; Harry, my..." the old man started, before seeing the glare Harry was directing at him with his aura flaring and his eyes glowing.

"Oh - erm - of course," he tried again, clearing his throat. "What can I do for you, Mister Potter?"

Harry immediately returned his face to calmness and his aura to fade before asking, "The slip of parchment ejected by the Goblet last night, Headmaster."

"Erm - What about it, Mister Potter?" asked Dumbledore, politely.

"I am interested to know if you have performed any scans, or other tests, upon the slip in investigating how it is it - A - came to be in the Goblet in the first place, and - B - came to be ejected as a fourth competitor in what is supposed to be a three competitor only competition?"

"Erm - perhaps this is something we should discuss in my office..." he tried while starting to rise.

"No!" interrupted Harry with another glare and another flare. "You _know_ that is _not possible_, Headmaster. However, I do believe my guardians - _all_ of them - will be along soon enough. I dare say within an hour or three. If you wish us all to then take this discussion to your office, with the approval and accompaniment of my guardians, I will be happy to do so.

"However, I am hoping to - derail - what will surely be a _heated_ exchange of words by gathering intelligence in advance of that happening. If you do not wish to aid me in this, then I shall simply let things play out as they _surely_ will. I am offering you my hand in solving this matter before it escalates too far. Please, do not make me regret it."

Dumbledore sighed and said, "I would accept your offer, Mister Potter; however, I do not believe we would be able to solve this - dilemma before they would arrive."

"Perhaps not," said Harry. "However, clear and open signs that investigative actions are taking place would go a long way towards mollifying tempers before they have a chance to fully erupt. Would you not agree, Headmaster?"

"I would," replied the Headmaster with a sigh. "Then, in the interests of being open, I'm letting you know the following facts. The name on the slip appears to be written in your hand. There is no school mentioned on the slip, as was required - we checked all magical methods of hiding the name. The slip also appears to have been torn from the bottom left hand corner of a larger slip of parchment. The ink is the same brand and quality you've used for your assignments, and on close inspection, does not appear to have been written using a quill."

Frowning, Harry thought about that for a few moments before he said, "The bottom left - that it was written in my hand - that it was not written using a quill - and you do not know the manufacture of the ink - _immediately_ tells me it was torn off the bottom of an assignment.

"Now, how did I write my name, and was there any other ink marks or symbols at the end of the name?" asked Harry, frowning and thinking hard.

"By hand, Mister Potter," replied Dumbledore. "And, I do not recall any other ink marks, smudges or anything else?"

Harry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with the fingers of his right hand. "My apologies for not being clearer. I meant; did I supposedly write 'Harry James Potter', 'Harry _J_ Potter', 'Harry Potter', 'H J Potter', '_Mister_ Harry James Potter', et cetera?"

"Ah!" said Dumbledore. "It's just 'Harry Potter'; nothing else."

"Then it was _definitely_ torn off the bottom of an assignment," said Harry. "I was advised years ago never to use my full name or title on any document unless I knew I was signing a contract. Any correspondence I send home will only ever have 'Harry', or just HP, on it. And any _official_ correspondence will always have 'Mister Harry J Potter' on it. So, I shall be going through my returned assignments to see what, if anything, is missing. I hope you will be investigating the teaching staff for copies of my assignments they may still have."

Surprised, the old man nodded.

"Now, I assume from what you have said that there was no school name written on the parchment _as was required_ for my name to be submitted?"

"No; no name of the school was detected. Even after checking for a magically hidden name."

"How about if they used muggle means to hide it?"

"Pardon, Ha - Mister Potter?" asked the old man, clearly surprised by the question.

"Muggle means," said Harry. "For instance; could it have been written in water, or other liquid substance that faded away? Muggles have been doing that sort of thing for decades. Have you looked to see if there is an impression on the parchment of a quill pressing down as it was used to write on it? Other than my name, of course."

"Errr - no," replied Dumbledore. "I shall check that as soon as I return to my office."

Harry nodded and said, "Thank you. Further, as I've now been unwillingly roped into this thing, I will need a copy of both the contract and the rules. Verified copies, of course. And, my guardians will also want one for my legal counsel. May I trust they will be made available before my guardians come storming in through the doors?"

"I shall make them available to you in my office immediately after breakfast, Mister Potter," replied the old man.

"Thank you," said Harry. "I shall see them collected from you then."

He thought, 'Nice try in getting me into your office alone, old man. Won't work, though.'

"I shall need the password for the gargoyle, sir."

"Ah," said the Headmaster, erroneously happy. "It's 'gummy bears' today, Mister Potter."

"Thank you, Sir," said Harry with a tiny bow. "Then I shall leave you to completing the breaking of your fast while I begin my own." And he walked off to the Slytherin table where his friends were sitting, that morning.

As he was sitting down, Daphne quietly asked, "Is everything alright?"

He nodded and said, "Yeah, just trying to dig up more information on what happened. Whoever it was, tore my name off the bottom of one of my school assignments and submitted that. Dumbledore needs to make more checks on the piece of parchment before he's completed it; but, he's not found any evidence yet."

Turning to Neville, he asked, "Nev, can you go up to the headmaster's office after you've finished your breakfast - and the old man has already left - to collect at least one, preferably two, copies of the contract and the rules? He's expecting me to go up but, of course, I cannot."

"Yeah, mate," said Neville. "I can do that. Meeting in the Come and Go Room straight after that?"

"Yeah, I think so," replied Harry. "The password to get past the gargoyle at the bottom of the headmaster's stairs is 'gummy bears'."

Neville nodded and said, "Got it. I'll be as quick as I can."

"Don't forget your Occlumency shields, Nev," Harry warned.

"I won't," grinned the other boy, a little evilly. "I'll be setting them to 'pain' before I go up."

Harry grinned back.

When Dumbledore left about five minutes later, and Neville about five minutes after that, Hermione asked, "Harry, what did Neville mean by setting his Occlumency shields to 'pain'?"

"Well," he replied. "Our so-called Leader of the Light and Headmaster, has the very bad and illegal habit of scanning the minds of his students - minors - without even asking permission first. If he tries it on Neville, he is in for a _very_ rude shock."

Hermione frowned and plaintively asked, "He wouldn't really do that, would he? It would be a horrendous breach of both privacy and trust. Plus, it's illegal."

"Well, the whole thing about Occlumency shields is, if Neville sets his shields to hurt an intruder, no one would know they're there until they actually try to intrude," explained Harry. "If the Headmaster does not make the attempt, he will never know. However, if he does, both he and Neville will know it instantly.

"Neville will feel the attempt and, depending on how severe Neville means by 'pain', the Headmaster will end up with a very bad headache at minimum. If I was Neville, I'd then scream and shout at the man and, at my first opportunity, let Gran know what he did.

"Now, with my guardians soon to be here, I have no doubt there will be further shouting directed at our dear Headmaster. He will _not_ be having a pleasant day, today; no matter how many pain relieving potions he chugs down."

"But is that fair on him?" she asked.

"Hermione," replied Harry. "You _saw_ me stand two nights ago and warn him, in front of the entire school population, that he needed to beef security around the Goblet. I even gave examples of how to submit someone else's name. He _clearly_ did not take my warnings to heart. Hell, putting a couple of people on _guard_ would have stopped it. Or, only have it available for people to submit their names for the last hour before the draw, even.

"And, now, _I'm_ the poor schmuck who gets to pay for _his_ failure; possibly with my very _life_. I'm not in a forgiving mood when it comes to the old fart. And, whatever difficulties are about to befall him, I'll be on the sidelines cheering for more to be piled on."

Hermione sighed in apparent sorrow for the man. Harry didn't care.

"If everyone's finished," interrupted Hannah, "Shall we go upstairs?"

With nods all round, the group rose and made their way out of the Hall.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Just after the group, minus Neville, entered the Come and Go Room, Harry's mirror buzzed and turned warm in his pocket.

"Wait, guys," he said, drawing the mirror out of his pocket. "Sirius is mirror calling me."

Flipping it open and whispering 'Padfoot' to the surface, the grey mist cleared and formed into the face of his godfather. "Hey, pup. We got your owls."

"I take it steps are currently being taken?" asked Harry.

"Yep. Cygnus is contacting a suitable lawyer with expertise in magical contracts," replied Sirius. "Once we have someone, we'll be hurrying with all due haste to the school. I don't know how long it's going to take, but it'll definitely be today."

"Thanks, Sirius," said a more relieved Harry. "I'm also in the process of getting a copy of both the contract that binds this thing, together with the rules of the tournament. We'll be going over those while we wait."

"Good idea," replied Sirius. "But, leave it to the legalist to actually argue the specifics of the contract and rules; alright, Harry?"

"We'll be talking about them between us, here," replied Harry. "I have no intention of arguing with the staff or Ministry personnel about them, though. I'm _more_ than happy to leave that up to the experts."

"Good," said his godfather. "I'll contact you again when we're ready to floo over. Until then, keep your head down and _try_ not to lose your temper, alright? It could do more harm than good."

"I'll give it my best," replied Harry. "Talk to you later."

"You, too, pup," replied the image before it faded back to grey.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Neville arrived about ten minutes later with a copy of the contract and rules. He told them the old man did not try to read his mind but he did feel a slight tickle of passive Legilimency, which was very quickly withdrawn.

"He also had the piece of parchment that had Harry's name written on it," said Neville. "And he said to say there was an indentation directly below Harry's name. Dumbledore then used some of Fawkes's old ash and lightly brushed it over the surface to make it show up. The name of the school was 'A Silly Name School'. Oh, and he said he's also going to see if he can find the person who's hand the name of the school is written in."

"Clearly, a fake," snorted Harry. "Anything else?"

"Only that he was disappointed you sent me to collect the documents," said Neville with a grin. "He asked me why you had so little faith him."

"And?" grinned Harry.

"I replied that part of it could be how he can't resist trying to illegally probe people's minds," laughed the other boy. "That gave him a bit of a shock."

Harry laughed as Neville sat down and laid the contract and rules on the table before them. Daphne immediately picked up the contract, while Hermione grabbed the rules. Both avidly read the documents in their hands.

"Alright, then. There _was_ a name of a school written on the slip. However, the school does not even exist. So, there's no need to check if they have a student named Harry Potter. Therefore, that's out. Dumbledore is going to see if he can track down in whose hand the name of the school is written, but that does me no good."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	64. Wand Wipeout

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Four - Wand Wipeout**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Where she was sitting, Daphne had been making careful notes. When she was ready, she drew everyone's attention.

"Alright, the contract, idiocy that it is, does not specifically state that the person whose name appears on the slip is the one who must submit it into the Goblet. And the name written on the slip is in Harry's handwriting, even if the name of the school is not. Therefore, he wrote his name on a slip of parchment and someone else then dropped it into the Goblet. They, whoever they are, did not negate that by writing the name of a school directly below his name and hiding it. So, he's bound.

"The contract does not state that only those of age could compete. However, the contract _does_ state that if he breaks the rules he breaches the contract."

"Hold it a second," said Hermione, from where she was frowning and flicking through the rules. "And the _rules_ state someone cannot compete if they're not of age. If he doesn't compete he - supposedly - breaks the contract. And, according to what Daphne just read, if he does compete he break the rules, which is a breach of contract. By the ways these are written, he's damned if he does and damned if he doesn't."

Harry sighed and said, "For now, then, see what the contract and rules state I _have_ to do, other than compete in the tasks, please. I'm going to go and work off some nervous energy with the target dummies."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The group worked for a couple of hours through the contracts and rules, looking for anything that could help, when Harry's mirror vibrated and warmed again.

Standing up and stepping away from the others, Harry answered the mirror.

"Hiya, Sirius," said Harry. "What've you found?"

"A damned good lawyer, for one, Harry," the old dog said, pleased with himself. "I'm currently at Greengrass Estate and we're waiting on _him_, your Aunt Amelia and your Gran to join us. Then, we're coming _en masse_."

"Can you let me know when you arrive at the gates so I can meet you in the Entrance Hall?" asked Harry. "We're all up on the seventh floor, at the moment."

"Can do, pup!" said the dogfather. "I'll contact you again, then, alright?"

With a nod, Harry replied, "Alright. Bye!" And he shut the connection down.

"It looks like the cavalry are getting things ready," said Harry. "They'll be here soon."

Looking over at those reading the contract and rules, he asked, "Anyone find anything else even remotely interesting?"

"Well, we know you have to compete. And we know there's no definition for what 'compete' means, either. However, that's _all_ you're required to do," said Daphne.

"So, not going into that room off the Great Hall was not something you were required to do," said Hermione.

Harry nodded. "How about media obligations? Anything there?"

"Nothing," said Daphne. "So you're clear to sell yourself to Luna," she smirked.

Harry just snorted. "So, I'm clear to have this contract lawyer draw up a contract for my media rights to be sold for Three Knuts to Luna, then."

"Father is going to love it when he hears this," she smiled. "You know what he's going to say, don't you?"

"That it was a very Slytherin thing to do," laughed Harry.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After packing up all their work they'd been doing. Harry's mirror warmed and vibrated just as they had finished. A quick acknowledgement to Sirius and they trooped downstairs, arriving in the Entrance Hall as the adults walked in through the main doors.

Quick hugs and other greetings later and Harry and the Seven were being introduced to a tall, thin man with greying hair by Cygnus.

"Harry, this is Dewey Skroohem, barrister and solicitor, he's here for you as your legal counsel," said Cygnus.

The tall man stepped forward and offered his hand, which Harry accepted. "Good morning, Mister Potter." When Skroohem stepped back, he asked, "Is there anywhere private we may go?"

"Yes, sir," replied Harry with a smile. "Third floor. We have a room, there, we can use."

The entire group walked in relative silence up to the third floor and, after Daphne opened the etiquette club rooms, led everyone inside.

"Wow! Harry, this place looks even better than your letters described it to be," said Sirius, looking around.

"Thank you," Harry smiled back.

Mister Skroohem withdrew his wand and conjured a large conference table in the middle of the floor inside the 'U' of tables. Then he conjured up quite a few office-style chairs at the table. Finally, he cast a privacy shield around the lot.

"Please, take seat, everyone," he said, gesturing to the table.

Walking forward, he placed his small legal satchel on the table and placed his thumb on a magical signature lock holding the flap closed. As soon as it clicked unlocked he opened it and withdrew quite a bit of parchment, ink, high quality quills and documents.

As he sat down on the chair at the end of the table, he straightened things up before him.

He looked to Harry and said, "Mister Potter, though you may not know it, I was your legal counsel, through your guardians, for your case against Mister Schlock and the owners of Obscurus Books. I have now been contacted by your guardians to act as your legal counsel with regards to your being entered into the Tri-Wizard Tournament; apparently, against your wishes. For me to fulfil that role I'm required to give an oath to act in your best interests. That will also require me to advise you to the best of my ability, even if that advice is not what you want to hear. Do you understand?"

Harry nodded and replied, "I do, sir." He was surprised this was the same man who went after Schlock. He didn't know of his identity before then.

"The oath also requires me to keep what we discuss as confidential. I cannot speak of it with anyone else other than you, my paralegal secretary, and those whom you implicitly allow me to speak of it with. My paralegal secretary is also bound by my oath. Do you understand?"

"I do, sir." replied Harry.

"Then, do you wish to secure my services as your legal counsel?" he asked.

"Yes, sir," replied Harry.

Mister Skroohem then drew his wand and, holding it for the oath, intoned, "I, Dewey Riley Skroohem, barrister and solicitor, offer my services as legal counsel to Harry James Potter. I swear to keep his secrets as my own, to offer sound legal advice to the best of my ability and knowledge, to be faithful in my dealings with him, and at all times act within the precepts of the law of the land. On termination of my legal representation of him, I will continue to hold his secrets as my own. So say I; so mote it be."

There was a muted flash of light signifying the oath took effect. He then resheathed his wand and slid a piece of paper over to Harry.

"That is the oath I require my clients to take. Your guardians have already taken it. It includes your acceptance of my magically binding offer," he said.

Harry read through the short oath and offered it to Cygnus to peruse.

After Cygnus, Sirius, Amelia and Augusta all read it over and nodded in agreement, Harry took it up, popped out his own wand, and said, "I, Harry James Potter, accept Dewey Riley Skroohem, barrister and solicitor, as my legal counsel. I swear to keep his secrets as my own, to be faithful in my dealings with him, and recognise I have no claim against him if I do not act on his advice. So say I; so mote it be."

Another flash, this time from Harry. He resheathed his wand.

"Excellent," said Skroohem. "Now that that's out of the way, please call me Dewey. May I call you Harry?"

"Yes, sir - Dewey," said Harry, a little relieved. "Where would you like to start?"

"Firstly, Harry, as your legal representation, I must ask if you're comfortable with all these people here being privy to what we discuss?" he asked.

"I am," nodded Harry firmly. "I have no secrets here."

"Good," replied Dewey. "How about you start by telling me what you know, and what you think, happened. If necessary, I'll interrupt to ask questions to clarify matters, agreed?"

"Agreed," replied Harry. "I think it best to start with Dumbledore's speech welcoming the other two schools' representatives to the castle on Friday, the 30th of October, and working forward from there..."

Harry then went into detail of what happened both with the unveiling of the Goblet, what he said to Dumbledore in front of everyone. And the next night, and what happened, including blowing a hole through the doors of the Great Hall to get out.

He then covered what he and the group did to find out more information, including his discussion with Dumbledore, that morning, and their perusing of both the rules and the contract. And he covered the discussion the previous night which led to an in-principle agreement with Luna of Lovegood Publishing for exclusive media rights.

When he mentioned for how much he'd sold said rights, Cygnus and the others burst out laughing and he said, "Slytherin! I _told_ you, he's a Slytherin!" He laughed even further when Neville very obviously offered a Galleon to Daphne with a smirk at Cygnus as he did so. It just made Cygnus laugh all the harder.

Even Dewey grinned with his eyes twinkling away when he heard why the agreement was made. "That is a very clever move, Harry. I'm impressed. And I don't often say that to anyone," he said.

He then turned to Luna and asked, "Are you permitted to make such agreements, Miss Lovegood?"

"The owner of Lovegood Publishing, my father, has verbally granted me the right to make suitable purchases and agreements up to the value of one Galleon," she replied.

"What? _Luna_!" mock-exclaimed Harry, looking at his second protectee. "You did me over!"

"Nonsense, Harry," she smirked. "I still claim your story is worth only two Knuts. I was being generous."

Even Dewey laughed at that one. He said to Harry, "I'm sure it won't drive you into bankruptcy."

Turning back to Luna, with a grin he said, "I shall draw up the contract, as discussed, and take it to your father at my first available opportunity. I must say, though, I hope you two - and Harry, especially - will allow me to include this part, at least, in my memoirs; when I finally get around to writing them. I'll also admit that I may just use the same idea with other clients in the future. It is truly a very clever move."

Turning more serious he turned back to Harry and said, "Once I have Mister Lovegood's signature on the media exclusivity contract, I will send formal notification to all media outlets informing them Harry is contractually bound to only talk to representatives of Lovegood Publishing. If they breach - or even attempt to breach - that, you are to inform me immediately."

Harry nodded.

Referring back to his notes, Dewey said, "This is what I can tell you right now: Your name coming out of the Goblet _does_ mean you are bound by a magically binding contract, irrespective of how it came to be. However, it also means you are now _magically_ recognised as an adult, as only adults can be bound by such agreements. Though the Ministry, or the law, may or may not recognise it, magic does.

"You and your friends are also correct in that you are only bound to _compete_ in the tournament. A quick skim through the contract and the rules shows me you are not required to take part in any other activity. And, you are also correct in that you can refuse to be named as a champion. You are only a competitor.

"I shall endeavour to discover just what they mean by compete, too, as you are also correct in that there does not appear to be a definition of that. I suspect it'll be the legal definition, in which case I'll peruse that and let you know.

"The conflicting parts - of which your friends pointed out - of you needing to be of age to compete, versus you must compete because your name came out of the Goblet, is troublesome. That can be overcome by accepting emancipation. Emancipation means you will be 'of age'. However, I shall need to cast my eyes more thoroughly over both documents before I will give up on that. Emancipation is a very big step to take."

That had the adult guardians talking among themselves before Cygnus said, "If it becomes necessary, then we'll just have to do that."

Dewey continued, "Besides the three tasks, which are on - the twenty-fourth of November, the twenty-fourth of February and the twenty-fourth of June - there is also the Weighing of the Wands Ceremony on the thirteenth of November and the Yule Ball on Christmas Day evening. However, it states 'champions' are expected for both events; not the competitors, as it does for the tasks. So, you are _not_ required to attend either of those. That's up to you. The Weighing of the Wands and the Yule Ball are traditions, _not_ tasks.

"As for the dates, it appears they intend to use this contract over and over again, as they have not included the year in which the tasks and events occur. It says, for example, that the first task will occur on the twenty-fourth of November, and not on the twenty-fourth of November nineteen ninety three. Whichever mind drafted this document needs a legal spanking. It's somewhat clear to me that it wasn't a trained legal mind."

"Find what you can," said Harry. "Anything that gets me out of this, even if it's a trivial technicality, I'm happy for you to use."

"Excellent," said Dewey. "It does so make my job easier when a client listens to my advice."

Straightening back up a little, he asked, "Now, is there anything else you need to tell me before your guardians and I go and speak with Professor Dumbledore?"

"No," replied Harry. "At least, nothing I can think of."

Dewey nodded and handed Harry a business card. "If there is, contact me via OWL or through your guardians, as soon as possible."

"Thank you," said Harry, accepting the card.

While he was packing away his documentation, Hermione asked, "Would you mind leaving us a copy of both the contract and rules? Harry should have a copy in case someone tries to - bamboozle him."

"Of course," Dewey replied with a smile. He made a copy of both documents and slid the copy across the table to Hermione, before completing packing his valise.

When he stood, everyone stood with him. Turning to Cygnus, he asked, "Shall we go and see the Headmaster?'

"Certainly," replied Cygnus.

"Should I come along?" asked Harry.

"Definitely not," replied Dewey. "I don't want you, personally, anywhere _near_ the man or the other officials from here on; alright?"

"Yes, Sir," replied Harry. "Oh, and the password to get onto the stairs leading to the headmaster's office is 'gummy bears' today."

Dewey smiled back and gave a slight nod in return.

After the adults left, Harry and the Seven stayed behind to chat about what happened.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Up in the Headmaster's office Dewey was quite calmly pointing out to Dumbledore his role as Harry's legal counsel. And how all matters regarding Harry were to be sent through him.

Dumbledore exploded in anger. And, in his anger, he let slip a few salient points he would have rather not. "No!" he shouted. "I cannot allow that! There are matters I must discuss with young Harry that are for _his_ ears alone!"

"There most certainly are not," replied Dewey quite calmly. "Lord Greengrass has already laid out for you just how you may speak in private with Mister Potter. But, you will _never_ be allowed to be alone with the boy. For a start, it would be - _unseemly_. I'm sure you understand my concerns.

Shocked, Dumbledore spluttered, "I would _never_..."

"And I never said you would," replied Dewey. "However, it would still be unseemly if it ever became public. I'm sure you recall a previous office holder of Headmaster was summarily sacked and sentenced to Azkaban for such, in the past. It would be a shame to see your reputation tarnished even further - probably irrecoverably - should such accusations be made public. The truth is irrelevant."

When Dumbledore was about to splutter indignantly, Dewey continued. "No, Headmaster; it could lead to great harm to Mister Potter's reputation, of which I am now partly and legally responsible, for him to also be tarnished by such accusations, even if it would be as the perceived victim," mused Dewey. "Therefore, I must lend my not inconsiderable legal weight behind the limitations placed upon you by Lord Greengrass regarding Mister Potter."

Before Dumbledore could even begin to think a response, Dewey changed the subject and said, "Now, on to the matters relating to the events which led to Mister Potter's name being ejected from the Goblet of Fire.

"You have failed - quite spectacularly, I might add - in your duty to protect your students from harm, Headmaster. If anything happens to Mister Potter, I daresay you will quite likely find yourself _persona non grata_ in magical Britain from that moment forth. Imagine, because of your - failure - you got the Boy-Who-Lived killed. You may even be lucky to make it _out_ of Britain..."

By the time the guardians and Dewey left the office two hours later, they were all feeling quite smug with themselves. Dumbledore, however, was quite frazzled. He did not leave his office for the rest of the day.

Of the points impressed upon him regarding the tournament, he was never to refer to Harry, in any way, as a champion; nor were any of the staff. That honour remained solely with Diggory, Krum and Delacour. Harry was to be referred to only as the unwilling competitor. There were only three champions; not four. It was the _Tri_-Wizard Tournament; not the _Quad_-Wizard Tournament. While Harry was a competitor, his points were not to go towards winning the event. If at all possible, he was to receive zero points. And Dewey and the guardians would all be spectators of the events, and would be watching for any deviation from those points.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

In the week that followed, Harry and the Seven were practically shunned by the other students. However, no one spoke ill of them. At least, not where there was any risk of Harry hearing about it. However, that did not mean he wasn't given the cold shoulder treatment. Far from it. It did not bother him in the slightest, though, as he already had his circle of friends. And they all stood by him.

On the Friday, Harry received a large letter from Dewey. In it was the contract between Harry and Lovegood Publishing that Harry asked Dewey to write up. The cover letter from Dewey explained the extra clauses he and Luna's father included, and where they were. Reading through it, it was exactly what he wanted; including extra clauses related to terminating the contract by either party. Luna's father had already signed it, where applicable.

Dewey's remarks also included that the contract would be magically filed as soon as he signed it. And a copy would replace it, clearly marked as a copy.

Looking up at Luna, he smiled and said, "Your father's agreed to the contract, dear Luna."

"I know," she said. "I received an owl from him yesterday about it. He's very pleased with me."

Harry chuckled and, withdrawing ink and a quill from his bag, signed it in the required and indicated places. As soon as the last signature dried, there was a flash. And Harry had before him his own copy of the contract.

Looking up at Luna, he said, "It's done, Lu. Lovegood Publishing are now the only media organisation to whom I'm permitted to speak, or is permitted to write about me, for the remainder of the school year."

"Thank you, Harry," she said. "May I ask for the first interview to be held immediately after the first task?"

"Of course," he replied with a grin. "I shall make myself available to you in your official capacity as a journalist for The Quibbler then."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the Friday, at breakfast, many of the students began wearing badges that said 'Support Cedric'. Harry chuckled and asked one of the older Ravenclaws where he got them from, as he would like to wear one, too.

The student just scowled at him and stormed away. He later found out that Malfoy was the one who had paid for them.

At lunch, however, Dumbledore stood and told everyone to remove them and immediately hand them over to their Heads of Houses. Apparently, there was a charm on them that changed the badge to say 'Potter Stinks' when Harry and the Seven were not in the vicinity.

"Except for the First Years, you were all privy to what happened to Ravenclaw House when it was discovered they had been bullying one of their own," he said. "This is another form of bullying. Anyone found in possession of such a badge, or similar, will be summarily suspended from school immediately; and sent home. You have been warned."

After lunch, he was in Charms.

"Summoning Charms!" exclaimed Professor Flitwick. "A most versatile and oft used charm..."

A knock on the door burst in on the professor's little speech.

It was Colin Creevey. He edged into the room, beaming at Harry, and walked up to Professor Flitwick's podium at the front of the room.

"Yes?" asked the professor.

"Please, sir; I'm supposed to take Harry Potter downstairs."

"Mister Potter has another half hour of Charms to complete," said Professor Flitwick. "What is this about?"

Colin went pink.

"Sir - sir, Mister Bagman wants him," he said nervously. "All the champions have got to go, I think they want to take photographs..."

Harry would have given anything he owned to have stopped Colin saying those last few words. He chanced half a glance at Neville and Hermione.

"Very well, very well," sighed Professor Flitwick. "Mister Potter, you may leave your things here."

"Please, sir - he's got to take his things with him," squeaked Colin. "All the champions..."

"Oh, very well!" grumbled the little professor. "Mister Potter, you may go."

"That is not necessary, Professor," said Harry. "I am not a champion. Ergo, I am not required. It appears Mister Bagman is not aware of this."

He then turned to Colin and said, "Mister Creevey; please pass on my respects to Mister Bagman and inform him that I shall _not_ be attending as I am _not_ a champion. If he needs, he may speak with Headmaster Dumbledore for clarification. Thank you."

"Errr - Harry?" stuttered the younger boy, clearly worried.

"You - _really_ don't want to do that, do you?" sighed Harry.

The other boy shook his head so rapidly his face became a blur. When he stopped, his hair was completely mussed. And was still worried.

"Alright, Mister Creevey; please wait for me outside," said Harry. Turning back to Professor Flitwick, he said, "My apologies, Professor. It appears the utter head farts responsible for this _farce_ just can't seem to get it into the _sewer sludge_ they claim as their brains that I am _not_ a champion. I shall need to remonstrate with the man."

"Understood, Mister Potter," replied the professor with a grin. "We'll see you, shortly."

Grumbling under his breath, Harry reached into his bag and withdrew his copy of the contract. With it in his hand he left the classroom. Colin was waiting for him outside.

"Alright, Colin," said Harry. "Lead the way."

As Colin walked with him down to - wherever - Harry could see he was bursting with questions. "Colin, has Miss Lovegood approached you for assistance as a photographer, yet?"

"No - no, she hasn't," replied the younger boy. "Will she?"

"I expect she might," replied Harry. "Now, once we get inside - wherever it is you're taking me - I'm going to start yelling at people. Be assured, none of that yelling will be directed at you. Understand?"

"I - understand," replied Colin a little nervously.

"Good. I'm also going to be radiating a lot of magical power, alright?"

"Yeah - I've - seen you do that before."

"And you're about to see me do it again," said Harry. "I suspect to see some of the adults in that room - to use the vulgar - _shit_ themselves when I do it. You will be perfectly safe, I assure you. Alright?"

"Yeah - alright," said the boy. "I trust you, Harry."

"Good lad," said Harry. "What I want you to do is go inside and tell them I'm right behind you. Then get away from the door. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, Harry. I can do that," replied Colin.

"Good; because I don't want you to get hurt," said Harry.

After a few minutes more walking, Colin indicated a door and said, "They're in there."

"Thank you, Colin," said Harry. "Go on, then; and remember to get away from the door, right away."

With a nod and setting himself, Colin walked rapidly up to the door and went in.

Harry gathered his magic, waited a few moments and set his 'angry face' on. Then marched up to the door, popped his wand into his hand and banishing the door open.

The door slammed open and he strode in, magic swirling around him. His eyes, glowing.

"Bagman, you moron!" he barked. "Where the _hell_ are you?"

There was a flash of camera.

Instantly his wand came up and he summoned the camera to his hand. He fairly ripped the back of it open and ripped the film out before he dropped it on the floor and smashed it under his heel. Then he dropped the camera onto the remains.

Looking at the gobsmacked photographer, a man with a slight paunch, he barked, "Startle me like that again, snot-gobbler, and you better hope I don't retaliate with a Cutting Curse or similar!"

Turning back to everyone else in the room he saw it was occupied by the three champions, Ludo Bagman, the idiot photographer and some woman dressed in magenta robes.

He was in a fairly small classroom. Most of the desks had been pushed away to the back of the room, leaving a large space in the middle. Three of them, however, had been placed end-to-end in front of the blackboard and covered with a long length of velvet. Five chairs had been set behind the velvet-covered desks, and Ludo Bagman was sitting in one of them next to the woman in magenta robes. He, like everyone else, was staring back in shock at Harry.

Viktor Krum was standing moodily in a corner, as usual, and not talking to anybody. Diggory and the French bint, Delacour, were obviously in conversation before he entered.

Bagman stuttered, "Errr - umm - it - it's the W-Weighing of the Wands Ceremony, M-Mister Potter."

Glaring back, Harry snarled, "Do you mean to tell me, you've interrupted my study - the _entire_ reason I'm in this school - for some half-arsed, bullshit _ceremony?_"

Fidgeting and looking ready to bolt at any moment, Bagman replied, "W-We have to check that your wands are fully functional - n-no problems, you know? - as-as they're your most important tools in the tasks ahead. The e-expert's upstairs now with Dumbledore. An-And then there's going to be a little photo shoot. This is Rita Skeeter," he added, gesturing toward the witch in magenta robes. "She's doing a small piece on the tournament for the Daily Prophet..."

"No, she's fucking not!" barked Harry, riding right over the man, who then cowered back. "I have an _exclusive_ media contract and it's _NOT_ with the Daily Prophet!"

Swivelling his eyes to the woman in magenta, he barked, "You Skeeter?"

Skeeter's hair was set in elaborate and curiously rigid curls that contrasted oddly with her heavy-jawed face. She wore jewelled spectacles. The thick fingers clutching her crocodile-skin handbag ended in two-inch nails, painted crimson.

Bracing herself, she tried, "Errr - yes, Mister Potter. I wonder if I could have a little word with you before we start." She had guts, facing up to him like that.

Harry spun about and cast his patronus. "_Prongs!_"

The patronus turned to look at him.

"Message to Dewey Skroohem, barrister and solicitor, Diagon Alley, London; I've just been approached by some numpty witch who goes by the name of Rita Skeeter, who purports herself to be a journalist from the Daily Prophet. She was already informed I was in an exclusive media contract, yet she has _still_ tried to question me. You are free to go after her, Barnaby Cuffe and the Daily Prophet. Have fun."

Prongs gave a short nod and bound out through the door.

Spinning back to Skeeter - who was staring back in shock - he snarled, "In case you don't know what just happened, I just sicced my lawyer onto _your_ arse, your _boss's_ arse, and the Daily Prophet in general. _Do not talk to me, or report on me, in any way!_ You're in _enough_ shit, as it is!"

Turning back to Bagman, who again cowered under his verbal onslaught, he barked, "As for you, you fat piece of dragon shit; magically binding contract or not, I am under _no_ obligation, _whatsoever_, to take part in some _fucked-up_ ceremony! If I see you again before the first task on the twenty-fourth, I'm gonna ram my foot so far up your arse I'm going to knock your teeth out! Have I made myself perfectly _clear_?"

Bagman just nodded his head rapidly back.

Harry then glared around the room, before spinning on his heel and storming out.

Krum moved forward towards Bagman and made as if to sniff the air. He then cast his amused eyes down at Bagman and said, "It appears, Mister Bagman, you have _soiled_ yourself."

Delacour snickered.

With a smirk, Diggory said, "And, _that_, Ladies and Gentlemen, is why we _never_ upset Harry."

Harry stalked back to the Charms classroom. By the time he had returned, he'd calmed down again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At dinner that night, Diggory approached him. He appeared quite amused. "Mister Potter, may I have a word?"

"Sure, Mister Diggory," he replied with a small smile. "Here, or elsewhere?"

"Same place we discussed that other - unpleasantness?" he asked.

"Why not," said Harry. Looking back at the group he said, "I'll be back in a tic or two."

He rose and followed Diggory out of the Hall. Of course, a lot of eyes followed him out.

Entering the antechamber after Diggory he found Krum and Delacour were also there. He gave them each a curt nod before turning to Diggory. "Mister Diggory?"

"Umm - What you said, today; before the weighing of the wands..." the boy said.

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"You said something about an exclusive media contract. And, that Miss Skeeter couldn't talk to you," he said.

"I did, and she can't," replied Harry.

Krum then asked, "How is this - how you say - possible?"

"Ah!" said Harry. "I have an exclusive media contract with Lovegood Publishing. No other media organisation is allowed to approach me or even write a story about me. Miss Skeeter would have been informed of this from her boss, who was informed by my lawyer.

"Furthermore, no one is allowed to use my name, my image, or my story, in any form, without my and Lovegood Publishing's express permission."

"And - how much did this - cost you?" asked tall, dark and broody.

"Cost me?" asked Harry. He grinned and said, "It didn't cost me anything other than the cost of having the contract drawn up. Actually, I _sold_ the rights to Lovegood Publishing for three Knuts."

"They pay you?" the Bulgarian asked in surprise.

"Yes," replied Harry, with a nod and a smile. "However, the money only exists within the contract so that money actually changes hands. Without the consideration - the money - the contract would be void.

"Also in the contract, is stipulations regarding truth and limitations on approaching me. Everything that is printed, written, painted, drawn, modelled, whatever, must be the absolute truth. In return, a journalist for Lovegood Publishing has the right to interview me no less than three times over the course of the year. But, such interviews must be at a time and place suitable for the both of us."

Delacour spoke up and asked, "'Ow do we get contract like zis?"

Looking around the three of them, Harry asked, "I take it the three of you are interested in this?"

"Oui - Da - Yes"

Harry chuckled and said, "I'll let the Lovegood Publishing representative here, at school, know you're also interested in the same deal. And, I shall send an owl to my lawyer, tonight, letting him know the three of you want the same contracts. I hope three Knuts is suitable compensation?"

"Oui -Da - Yes"

Nodding, he chuckled and asked, "Anything else?"

"Yeah, errr..." tried Diggory. "What you said about the wand ceremony. You didn't have to attend?"

"You three haven't read the contract you agreed to when you entered this thing, have you?"

"No - Non - Net"

Harry sighed and said, "Sorry, but that's not very clever is it?" He gave them all an amused smile, to which even Krum blushed a little.

"Well," he began. "In a nutshell, you are required to compete in three tasks. Those three tasks will take place on the 24th of November, the 24th of February and the 24th of June. _That's it!_ You have no other legal obligations beyond that.

"Be also aware, there is a Yule Ball to be held on the night of Christmas Day, for which the champions are expected to lead the first dance. _Expected_ - not _Required_! Understand?"

"If anyone _tries_ to tell you differently - and I'm _sure_ they will - they're either knowingly or unknowingly _lying_ to you!

"Now, as you three are currently contracted for this thing, you are entitled to a copy of both the contract and the rules. _By law_, they should have been given to you on the evening your name came out of the Goblet. That they were not, is _illegal_. So, go and bloody demand a copy _each_! And, for Merlin's sake, _read_ them."

"But, why do you want to get out of zis tournayment?" asked Delacour. "Surely, you would want ze fame and ze glory, no?"

"Fame? Glory?" asked Harry with an amused smirk. "I'm the _Boy-Who-Lived!_ I'm recognised _all_ over the world. I also c-slayed a thirty foot long basilisk when I was _twelve_; with a freaking sword! I don't _need_, nor _want_, fame. As for glory? _What_ glory? Tell me, Miss Delacour, who won this thing last time?"

"Errr - I..." she tried, thinking furiously.

"_Exactly!_" said Harry. "And, as for the one thousand Galleons prize money; I'm the Head of _one_ Noble and Most Ancient House, the Heir Presumptive of a _second_, and betrothed to the Heiress Presumptive of a _third_! Forgetting the last two, as Head of House Potter, I'm already worth hundreds of millions of Galleons! Why the _hell_ would I risk my life for what I consider _pocket change_? I've spent far more than _that_ in one day's worth of shopping in Diagon Alley!"

"You haf left us with much to think about, Mistŭr Potter," said Krum, broodily brooding.

"I'm happy to have been of service, Mister Krum," said Harry. "I'll talk to Luna of Lovegood Publishing tonight, and send the owl off to my lawyer, as well. Expect to hear from both over the next couple of days."

"Spasibo - Thank you - Merci"

Harry left the three of them quietly chatting with each other.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	65. Lord Potter

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Five - Lord Potter**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Over the next couple of days, as promised, Harry approached Luna about offering the three champions the same 'deal' he had with Lovegood Publishing. Luna was all for it and wrote her father. Harry sent an owl that same night to Dewey who sent an owl back the next morning stating he, too, was in.

In secret on the Sunday afternoon, the three champions met with Dewey in the etiquette clubroom and hashed out contracts customised for the three of them. Diggory's was the same as Harry's. Delacour's was similar but with emphasis on the French newspapers - specifically _Journals Magique_. And Krum was more difficult, as Dewey had to speak to him about sponsorship, and the like, regarding his Quidditch career. Eventually, his was only for magical Britain, but he promised to work with the young man regarding his career in future.

In the end, the three and Dewey all came out happy. Harry told him to send the bill for all three to him.

However, by the Thursday, the Daily Prophet was screaming bloody murder as was - apparently - the Wizarding Wireless Network.

The four competitors - again, Harry slapped down Bagman for calling him a champion - together with Dewey, were in _talks_ with the three Headmasters, Crouch and Bagman. Dumbledore tried to have Snape and Moody present, but Dewey was very quick to chuck them out.

Dumbledore and Madam Maxime were acting as if they didn't have a care in the world and were chatting academics with each other, while Crouch and Bagman were yelling at Dewey - who was trying not to laugh back at them - and was calmly repeating in various ways that his hands were tied. He was just that _good_ a lawyer, he explained, that the contracts were 'ironclad'. Karkaroff was spending his time trying to out-brood Krum while glaring or yelling at the boy and at Dewey. Krum was sitting calmly, as were all the competitors, and ignoring everyone while chatting amiably with Delacour. At the same time Harry and 'call-me-Cedric' Cedric Diggory were talking Quidditch while only paying a minor amount of attention to what was going on.

Luna was also there and a little behind Harry but seemed to be off in her own little world while happily humming to herself. When Crouch tried to turn his ire on her, Harry was out of his seat before a fourth yelled word left the man's mouth, and had the tip of his wand pressed firmly into the man's throat and his magic swirling.

With a feral grin on his face in the now completely and suddenly silent room, Harry quietly glared at the man and said, "Mister Crouch, if you had bothered to pay even the slightest attention, you would know from the crest on Miss Lovegood's left shoulder that she is a Protectee of House Potter. I take my role as protector _very_ seriously. Back off, or I start carving _pieces_ off you. Now, apologise to the lady for your boorish behaviour."

Crouch went almost green in fear before he stammered a fearful apology at Luna. Luna just smiled happily and waved back. Delacour giggled at her reaction; which was - essentially - none.

Krum, who Harry was coming to like, loudly sniffed and said, "Mister Bagman, it appears you have _soiled_ yourself again."

Harry, if he wasn't so angry with Crouch, probably would have laughed, as Delacour did anyway.

"Perhaps _now_ would be a good time for a spot of tea, while Mister Bagman goes and - sorts himself out," said Dumbledore quite calmly as if he was asking about the weather. When no one said a word back, he calmly called for a house elf and they all found themselves with a cup of the hot beverage while Bagman disappeared for a while.

Crouch spent the time glaring at Dewey and looking fearfully at Harry.

It was only a few minutes before voices became raised again, and a minute later they were again yelling.

After an hour, Harry stood and stretched. The room, again, went silent.

When he relaxed into an easy stance, he said, genially, "Well; while watching adults yell at one another for no apparent purpose was fun for the first hour, I'm missing one of my favourite subjects - Ancient Runes."

Looking at Dewey he said, "Dewey, I can see you're still having _loads_ of fun laughing at these two fools, who can't seem to wrap their tiny little brains around the fact there's nothing they or you can do to change things; so, I'll leave you to it. Everyone else, your time has expired." Turning to Luna he said, "Luna dear; I think it would be best for you to leave with me. I don't want to see you subjected to any more - negativity."

"Okay, Harry," she happily said, gathering her book bag, standing up and taking Harry's offered elbow.

"Where are you going, Mister Potter?" called Dumbledore.

"Well, let's see," replied Harry before turning to Luna. "Luna dear; what class do you have on at this moment?"

"Charms, I believe," she replied.

Turning back to Dumbledore, Harry said, "I'm escorting Miss Lovegood to the Charms classroom. And, from there, I'll be heading to the Ancient Runes classroom." He then smiled, raised his off hand and, with a twinkling of his fingers, gaily said, "Toodles!"

As Harry turned and headed for the door, Dewey laughed.

Immediately, the yelling started up again. Some even directed at Harry, who simply ignored it and walked out with Luna on his arm.

He only made it about a hundred feet down the corridor away from the gargoyle when he heard a laughing Cedric call out. "Hey, Harry! Wait up!"

When Harry turned around the three champions were all hurrying up to him grinning or openly laughing. Delacour, when she wasn't being mean, actually had a nice laugh. Even Krum's face bore a grin.

"That vos fun!" he said, clearly happy.

As all five walked away along the corridor, Harry superciliously said, "Such is the power of having a lawyer in your pocket. Well worth the gold, I say."

He received snickers of amusement in return.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As the first task drew ever closer, Harry and the Seven - plus the Weasley twins - worked as hard as they could to figure out a way to get Harry out of competing. Even Dewey was eventually forced to admit Harry would have to compete. With the support of Harry's guardians, he was trying to push through a declaration of emancipation, but the Ministry was baulking at it. The Minister's office refused to sign off, as was required, since Harry was headed for the Wizengamot once his Lordship was available to him. Fudge wanted Harry nowhere _near_ those seats.

The night before the task, Harry and Daphne were the last two in their room. He was currently lying on a couch with his head resting in Daphne's lap. While she was almost idly running her fingers through his hair.

When Harry found out from the twins - who had talked with their brother, Charlie, the dragon wrangler - the first task involved a nesting mother dragon and a golden egg, he all but hyperventilated and passed out.

"How the hell am I supposed to get out of facing a bloody dragon," grumbled Harry. "I'm _fourteen_, for Merlin's sake!"

"You're also an incredibly powerful wizard, when you draw power in, Harry," said Daphne. "You know, and can do, enough charms and curses to get past a dragon; even if it _is_ a nesting mother."

"Alright - alright," he said, from where he lay. "I have to compete. However, I _cannot_ compete because I'm not of age. I have to compete starting with the first task on the 24th of November..." And it hit him. He had the answer. It ran like a freight train through his mind. He finally realised what it was that had been nagging him ever since he met Dewey for the first time.

His head suddenly shot up out of Daphne's lap.

"Harry?" she asked.

He swung his legs around to sit properly forward on the couch. She could almost see the wheels spinning behind his eyes.

"Sweet Merlin; I've got it!" he softly said.

"Got what, Harry?" she asked, wondering what was going on with her suddenly excited betrothed.

"Ah!" he replied turning to her with a look of delight on his face. "I know! I know! Dewey and I've been thinking all backwards about this. I know how to _not_ compete and _not_ breach the contract when I do! _Ha!_ The answer's been staring us in the face all along!"

"Alright; spill!" said Daphne. "_What_ did you figure out?"

"I don't need to think about how to get out of the _contract_; I needed to think about how not to _compete_," replied Harry with a large grin.

"That - doesn't make much sense," frowned Daphne.

"Oh, it's actually quite simple," said Harry with a knowing grin. "I need to run it past Dewey first, of course. I'll see him tomorrow before the task. But, what I need to do is..."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"Introducing the fourth champ - err - _competitor_, Mister Harry Potter!" the announcer's, Ludo Bagman's, voice rang out over the stadium.

Everyone looked expectantly to the gates leading in to the stadium from where the other three contestants entered and exited after collecting their eggs, waiting for Harry to enter. Even the dragon was looking around expectantly, looking for threats.

No one entered.

Daphne was getting worried. Harry had told her to leave him a space next to her and she had dutifully complied, leaving a reserved spot to her immediate left between her and Tracey. He had also told her he would come up there and sit with her to watch the other competitors compete. However, they all went ahead of him. And there had been no sign of her beloved since she left him at the entrance to the competitor's tent.

After a few long moments Bagman's voice rang out a second time, "Introducing the fourth competitor, Mister Harry Potter!"

And still no one entered.

Suddenly, she felt a hand land on her left shoulder. Reaching up with her own hand it landed on a hand covered in the soft, silky feel of 'Her Harry's' invisibility cloak. She sucked in a deep breath in shock. She knew it was Harry because she felt his Head of House ring on his ring finger under the cloth. And she could now smell the light musky smell of the cologne she bought for him for his last birthday.

Once more the announcer's voice rang out, "Mister Potter! You must come out and compete!"

She felt the weight of 'Her Harry' settle into the seat on the bench and cuddle up to her.

"Are you ready to watch me beat these bastards?" he whispered into her ear.

She nodded. Her heart was thumping away in her chest with worry, but she trusted her beloved.

Harry quickly whipped off his invisibility cloak, causing those sitting nearby who thought the spot empty, to suddenly gasp in surprise. The only ones who didn't were his guardians and Dewey, who were sitting behind him. He wrapped the cloak into a small ball and dropped it into Daphne's lap. Then he stood up.

Drawing his wand, he firmly placed the tip against his own throat and cast the Sonorus Charm.

"Excuse me! I'm afraid I'm not yet ready to compete. Sorry."

Voices rose around the stadium. It didn't take them long to spot Harry standing in place in the stands between Daphne and Tracey.

"Mister Potter. You must enter the stadium floor and compete. If you do not, you will lose your magic."

"And I fully intend to enter the stadium floor and compete, Sir. Just not today."

Harry watched as Bagman was about to speak again when the hand of Barty Crouch Senior sitting next to him suddenly gripped his arm and held him back. Crouch then stood and cast his own Sonorous Charm.

"Mister Potter," his voice carried across the stadium seating, "the rules state, quite clearly, that this event will be held on the 24th of November."

"Yes, Sir," shot back Harry. "But the rules also state that I cannot participate in the tournament unless I am of age. If I do, then I am in breach of the rules. If I breach the rules, then I am in breach of the contract. If I breach the contract I lose my magic. Therefore, Sir, I cannot compete today."

"If you do not compete you will lose your magic, Mister Potter."

"And, as I said, I fully intend to compete. Just not today."

"Then _when_ do you intend to compete, Mister Potter?" asked Crouch, clearly becoming quite agitated.

That was the question Harry was waiting to hear. He grinned. "As you have already stated, the rules state this event must be held on the 24th of November. Therefore, in order to meet the condition of the contract that dictates this event is to be held on the 24th of November, _and_ for me to meet the condition that I am of age, the earliest I can participate in this event is the 24th of November _nineteen ninety seven_.

"I'm terribly sorry, Sir. But, all these folks - and that poor dragon down there - are in for a _very_ _looooong_ wait."

"Mister Potter. As you know, I am Bartemius Crouch and I am the British Ministry representative responsible for the contract. It was the intent that the event be held today, Sir.

"Then that is what you should have included in the contract. Alas for you - and these folks all gathered here today - you did not do that."

There was a great deal of background chatter around Harry and throughout the stands. Crouch was bent over to his side and was arguing with someone before he straightened back up and glared back at Harry.

"Then, under my authority, I'm changing the contract to reflect that the event will be held today."

'_Yes!_' thought Harry. Behind him he heard Dewey almost whoop in joy.

"Firstly, Sir, you do not want to do that," Harry calmly said. "The consequences are dire. Secondly, I would still have to be of age. As I would lose my magic, anyway, _by_ competing, I still choose not to compete as the safer alternative."

"Then, Sir, as the ranking representative of the Minister present, the Ministry deems you of age. Now you must compete."

'_Gotcha!_' thought Harry, as Dewey actually _did_ whoop in joy and laughed. Looking around the spectators, Harry asked, "Are there any judges, other Ministry officers, or anyone else who disagrees?"

No one disagreed. Everyone else sat there in near silence, except for muttering to one another, watching the drama unfold between two participants of the 'Sonorus battle' sitting almost across from one another in stadium seating.

"No?" Harry asked again. "Well, the only way for the Ministry to deem me of age is to emancipate me and make me an emancipated minor," Harry reasonably said. "Still no takers?"

Still no one said anything. He turned back and grinned at his guardians. Cygnus, wearing his own grin, offered him a thumbs up.

'_Here we go,_' he thought. "In that case - and on your authority - I, Harry James Potter, Head of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, hereby acknowledge and accept I have been legally emancipated this day by the _in-situ_ representative of the Minister of Magic, Mister Bartemius Crouch; and, having now come of legal age, _hereby accept the Lordship of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter_. So say I; so mote it be." Harry was suddenly surrounded by a quick flash of magical light that faded away.

"Thank you for that," he simply said. "Now, as _you_ have altered the conditions of a magically binding contract _after_ it has been enacted, it falls to me and the other parties of the contract - as the aggrieved parties - to either agree or disagree with the alterations. As the - or one of the - then aggrieved party or parties; it falls to me, by magical law, to either accept the alterations, not accept the alterations, or vacate the contract _in it's entirety_."

That created a bit of a ruckus. Harry ignored it, and soldiered on.

"I, _Lord_ Harry James Potter, as aggrieved party of the unauthorised and unagreed alteration of the contract regarding the Tri-Wizard Tournament, by Mister Bartemius Crouch, Ministry representative to the Minister of Magic and _signatory_ to the magically binding contract associated with the Tri-Wizard Tournament this day, hereby _vacate_ the contract enacted by the Goblet of Fire on the 31st of October 1994 and declare the contract _terminated_. So say I; so mote it be."

There was another flash of magic. This time, Harry saw it was himself, Dumbledore, Karkaroff, Maxime and Crouch who all flashed. He also suspected the three champions also flashed, but they were in the hospital tent and out of his sight.

He continued, "This tournament is now over unless you can sign the three _true_ champions - who actually _want_ to compete - to a _new_ contract. _Finite!_"

Harry plonked his bum back down onto the bench and turned to Daphne with a wide grin. "Well, my love? Shall we retire to the Great Hall for afternoon tea to celebrate my victory?"

Daphne grapple-hugged him and burst into tears. "_Prat!_"

Dewey roared with laughter while his guardians all came forward laughing to hug them both.

"Bloody hell, pup!" crowed Sirius. "Best prank _ever!_"

"_Mister_ Potter!" called Crouch, still using his own _Sonorus_. "_Mister Potter!_"

Harry ignored him.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Taking his beloved's hand, Harry quickly led her off the stadium seating and, together, they rushed back to the Great Hall laughing all the way. The guardians and Dewey took a more leisurely stroll. It was his intention to beat the journalists, especially Rita Skeeter, out of the stadium and back to the safety of the castle walls.

Running into the Great Hall and laughing they were greeted by those students who could not secure seating in the stadium and didn't have a class on at the time.

"Well?" asked one of the female Ravenclaw Third Years. "How did you do?"

"My intellectual genius of a betrothed," replied Daphne, "utterly outsmarted them and didn't have to compete. He also managed to get the tournament cancelled until such time as they re-sign the three true champions. And there's _nothing_ they can do about it!"

"How? - How on _Earth_ did you manage that?" the girl asked, a little shocked.

"Quite simple, my dear Miss Fawcett," said a grinning Harry. "By using their own weapon against them. As they used the conditions of the contract to force me to compete in the first place; I used the conditions of the contract to force them to delay the tournament until the 24th of November 1997. When they _then_ tried to force through a change to the contract, to again try to force me to compete today; I used _that_ to vacate the contract, thereby cancelling it."

Not a couple of minutes later and the 'official' delegation of judges and Ministry flunkies entered the Great Hall. They were followed by Harry's guardians, Dewey and the rest of the Eight. As soon as one of the official delegation spotted Harry sitting halfway along the Ravenclaw table, he indicated Harry to the rest and the whole body made a bee line for him. Ludo Bagman was in the lead. Harry just sat there and pretended to ignore them.

"_Mister Potter!_" barked the balding overly-round middle aged wizard, Ludo Bagman.

"_Mister Bagman!_" barked Harry right back. "And its _Lord_ Potter, you fat, pompous _gnat!_"

Everyone that was in the Great Hall immediately fell silent and watched the entertainment happening amidst them.

"_Mister_ Potter, you will return to the stadium - right this minute - and compete in the tournament," snarled the old Quidditch player.

"_Mister_ Bagman, you will drop to your knees, pucker up and kiss my _hairy bum_!" snarled Harry right back. "And its _Lord_ Potter, again, you blowhard!"

While Bagman stood there blustering away, Barty Crouch stepped forward as the second person of the Ministry tag team.

"Mister Potter..." tried Crouch.

"_Lord_ Potter!" snarled Harry.

"_Mister_ Potter, while that was a very clever attempt to sabotage the Tri-Wizard tournament, I'm afraid you _still_ must compete or you will lose your magic," he said trying to sound calm while speaking through a clenched jaw.

"No, he won't," said Dewey, stepping forward from behind. "As _Lord_ Potter's legal representative, I _assure_ you, he does not!"

Crouch got all flustered and babbled a bit.

"_Squib_ Crouch," said Harry, calling the man's attention back. "While your not-so-clever attempt to get me to actually compete in an event I'm not obligated to do so might sound perfectly logical to you, I'm afraid you're probably suffering from the effects of your magic slowly draining away, and are sounding like an idiot!"

"What do you mean, _my_ magic?" he growled.

"Well, Squib-To-Be; _you_ just broke a magically binding contract by altering the conditions of said contract when you were not legally allowed to do so; one enforced by the _Goblet of Fire_. That means it's _your_ magic that will be stripped, not _mine_," replied Harry quite reasonably.

Crouch stood there for a few moments unable to make much of a sound as his jaw worked and his hands kept clenching and unclenching into fists. However, his skin took on quite the sickly pallor.

Dewey calmly said, "He _is_ correct, Mister Crouch."

Crouch spun around to face the other officials. As soon as his eyes alighted on Dumbledore he bellowed, "_Dumbledore!_ Make him compete!"

"I'm sorry, Bartemius," replied Dumbledore in a calm voice. "But, I'm afraid Mister - sorry - _Lord_ Potter's, and Mister Skroohem's, reading of both the contract and the rules of the tournament are correct. While the contract stated the event was to be held on the 24th of November, it certainly did _not_ mention the year. I must say, I am _quite_ surprised to find such an amateurish mistake in a document you charged to be written. Did you not carefully review it first, before accepting it and signing it?"

Daphne put in her two knuts and said, "And I also must say, you're looking quite _ill_, Mister Crouch. Perhaps someone should escort you to the infirmary for Madam Pomfrey to have a look at you. After all, if my betrothed - _Lord_ Potter - is correct, you may very well _already_ be suffering from the effects of the beginning of you losing your magic."

"Squib Crouch!" called Harry as the man was about to turn around.

The man turned and glared back.

"On the night the names were discharged from the Goblet of Fire, I believe everyone would have willingly agreed to vacate the contract and start again, and everything would have worked out," said Harry. "From what I understand, the _sole_ opponent to that idea was you! You may very well be losing your magic right now - and, I daresay you are - and it's your _own_ pig-headed obstructionist fault. Good day, Sir."

As most of the official party left the Hall again, with both Bagman and Crouch ranting at Dumbledore, Madam Maxime remained. When the party was far enough away she turned to Harry and said, "Lord Potter, it is a very brave thing you are doing and take a great risk. I feel I must commend you for your actions and wish you luck. Good day, young man."

"Thank you, Madam Maxime," replied Harry before she could leave. "I trust you are now of the opinion I was _not_ a willing participant of this farce?"

"Indeed, Lord Potter," she replied with a slight bow before leaving.

As Madam Maxime strode out of the Great Hall, Cygnus, Isabel, Sirius, Gran and Dewey all came forward. Harry gestured them into seats opposite while grinning like a loon.

"Where's Aunt Amelia?" he asked.

"She had to return to the Ministry where she's going to keep an eye on anyone trying to do any hanky-panky with the Ministry's own copy of the contract," replied Cygnus. "Plus, it's a work day. So..."

Harry turned to Dewey and asked, "So, we're good?"

"Definitely," replied Dewey. "You did everything right. Though you legally did not need to, you even described what you were doing as you did it. So, no one can now accuse you of 'being lucky'.

"If you're considering a career in law when you graduate, I hope you'll come and see me. You've the mind needed to think outside the box for a career arguing contract law."

Harry grinned and said, "I'm afraid you're going to have to wait in line. There are others who have expressed similar sentiments regarding other careers."

As they were talking, a large barn owl flew in and alighted in front of Harry. It bore an owl harness with the crest of Gringotts stamped upon it. Tied to the harness was a letter.

"Well, hello, you," Harry said to it, as he reached out and removed the letter.

Daphne reached out and offered the bird an owl treat. Harry, as he was dressed to compete, was not carrying any of them on him.

Opening the letter, a short one compared to the usual missive Harry received as the Head of an Ancient House, Harry read.

_Lord Harry James Potter  
Head and Lord of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter_

_Lord Potter,_

_On behalf of Axe-Lord Ragnock, may his reign be long and his vaults ever full, I offer you congratulations on your emancipation and elevation to your Lordship._

_As you have now attained your birthright I request your attendance, at your earliest convenience, at the London Branch of Gringotts Bank. The purpose of the meeting is for you to sign the requisite parchmentwork to open the remaining vaults to you._

_Further, now that you are legally of age and considered an adult under wizarding law, there are other matters I need to raise with you I would be uncomfortable including in this note due to the sensitivity of the information._

_Once more, congratulations on your emancipation and elevation to your Lordship._

_Bloodfang Runerock  
Master Account Keeper  
for The Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter  
Gringotts Bank_

Harry handed the letter for Cygnus to take but Cygnus smiled and said, "Harry, you're emancipated now. You're an adult, so I'm no longer your magical guardian."

Harry blinked as he hadn't thought of that. He said, "But, still - our Houses are allied and I still cherish your wise counsel. If you wouldn't mind?"

Cygnus smiled and said, "Thank you, Harry," before taking the letter and reading it.

Handing it back after he read it, he said, "Well, at least we know that part of what you did out there is valid."

Harry nodded and handed the letter next to Dewey. Taking it and reading it, Dewey said, "Confirmation is always welcome. That the goblins' records have reflected the emancipation means that magic has accepted it as valid. The Ministry cannot override it."

"Mmm," said Harry with the verbal nod. "But that 'other matters' concerns me." He accepted the letter back from Dewey and handed it to Sirius.

After Sirius read it and handed it back, Harry handed it to Gran.

"What have you got on this afternoon, Harry?" asked Sirius.

"Herbology with the Lions," he replied. "Double period. And Astronomy with Daphne's house is on after midnight, tonight."

"I think we need to get you in to Gringotts, this afternoon," said Sirius, as Harry accepted the letter from Gran and handed it to Isabel. "It is unlike them to be - reticent to include all relevant information in their correspondence."

Cygnus nodded and said, "Agreed." He turned to Daphne and asked, "What do you have on this afternoon?"

"History of Magic with the 'Puffs," she immediately replied. "But, you've already given me a permission to be excused from that."

Isabel then handed the letter back, and Harry handed it to Daphne.

Looking to Dewey with a smirk, Harry asked, "Any advice from legal counsel?"

Dewey grinned, wiped a fake tear from his eye, sniffled and said, "I have a client who seeks my advice _before_ acting. I must be in heaven."

The adults chuckled while Dewey said, "Go, now."

"That is - troubling," said Daphne, frowning as she handed the letter back.

"Then it's unanimous," said Harry. "I need parchment, ink and quill." He began to look around a little until Daphne whacked him lightly on the arm with her fountain pen.

Turning back to her, he saw her smirk and hold the pen for him. "Sorry," he blushed. He accepted the pen and looked down the table to some younger year Ravenclaws who were using the table to - supposedly - do homework; but spent most of the time watching Harry and his party.

Immediately catching the attention of one of the younger girls he asked, "Ladies; might I seek your indulgence for a sheet of parchment?"

The girls blushed and giggled, and one slid a small sheet of parchment down the table.

Daphne rolled her eyes while Cygnus snorted and Sirius said, "Damn, Pup! Betrothed on your arm and you're _still_ sweet-talking the ladies."

Isabel whacked him on the arm and said, "Shoosh, you. He was just being courteous."

Harry just grinned as he uncapped the fountain pen and placed the sheet of parchment before himself ready to write. "So, a quick message to Professor Flitwick informing him Daphne and I needed to urgently leave the school for Diagon Alley, due to urgent House Potter business?"

Cygnus nodded and said, "Based on advice from - House advisors - and legal counsel - blah blah blah."

Harry nodded and quickly wrote out the note.

As he was finishing, Isabel said, "Sign it 'Lord Harry James Potter', just so there's no misunderstanding."

Harry nodded again and did so. Looking up and capping the fountain pen before handing it back to Daphne, he said, "Now I just need someone to deliver it..." and saw Tracey and Luna walk in.

They came over and sat down between their party and the young girls who gave him the parchment.

"Problem?" asked Daphne of Tracey.

The other girl shook her head and said, "No. We had a single period of History of Magic this afternoon, remember? And Luna wasn't allowed in to her double period of Potions because the class had already started before she got there from the arena. We met coming out of the dungeons."

"In that case," said Harry. "Could one of you please hand this to Professor Flitwick after the last class, this afternoon?" sliding the sheet of parchment before the two newest arrivals. "Daphne and I have urgent business to attend at Gringotts."

"I'll take it," said Luna in her dreamy voice. "I'll be heading up to Ravenclaw in a little while, and I'll put it in his Head of House mail box for you."

"Actually, Harry," said Isabel. "You'll need to head up there, anyway. You really don't want your first foray into Diagon Alley and Gringotts as Lord Potter to be while you're wearing your competitor's outfit."

Harry sighed and said, "Dang it. I was hoping no one would notice."

Isabel just smiled back and said, "Not notice The-Boy-Who-Lived walking among them? Not likely."

"Fine," grouched Harry. "We'll be as quick as we can." Taking the note back from Luna with his thanks, and putting it in his pocket, Harry climbed to his feet and assisted Daphne to do the same.

He didn't notice Isabel nod her head in approval of his actions.

They quickly made their way out of the Great Hall, passing a 'gaggle' of Beauxbatons students who had just entered.

"_Voyez-vous plus tard, mes amis!_" called Harry over his shoulder, as he and Daphne walked arm in arm heading out of the doors.

One of the Beauxbatons girls called back, "Your pronunciation eez atrocious, _Lord_ Potter!"

Harry just blew her a raspberry over his shoulder as he escorted Daphne from the Hall with his head held high. The gaggle - giggled.

From where he was still sitting at the Ravenclaw table, Sirius sighed and said, "I swear on Merlin's wand, if that boy wasn't already betrothed and clearly in love with Daphne, he'd be beating them off with a _stick_!"

Isabel leaned over and said, "Daphne wrote to me and told me there are at least three Veela among the Beauxbatons students. And all three, at least, have been making goo-goo eyes at him. He hasn't even noticed."

"Really?" asked Sirius in surprise. "Damn! The boy's got it _bad!_"

Isabel smiled but still gave him a whack on his arm. "On top of that - thank you very much - I don't think he's figured it out yet."

"Figured what out?" asked Sirius with a pout while massaging his arm.

"He's emancipated!" sighed Isabel, as if talking to a particularly dense child.

"Yes; and?" asked Sirius.

Isabel just shook her head and said, "You'll figure it out."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	66. Taking Seat

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Six - Taking Seat**

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A quick trip down to the dungeons, escorting Daphne - and a dash up the secret passages to the Ravenclaw tower to change and drop off his note - Harry quickly returned to the Entrance Hall. He cast a couple of quick 'Photography' Cantrips on himself, and strode back into the Great Hall with his head held high like a proper Lord.

When he reached the head of the Ravenclaw table he spun on the spot and struck a pose. His hair was perfectly coifed, his eyes sparkled, his teeth glinted as he grinned and his robes fluttered as if in a light breeze.

He was dressed every inch the image of a Lord of a Noble and Most Ancient House. His deep black outer robes were of the finest acromantula silk. His crest rode upon his right breast. His under robes were a quality business attire of deep green trimmed in black. His pure cotton shirt, startlingly white.

With one finger of his left hand pointed in the air for dramatic effect, while his other hand rested on a cocked hip, displaying his Head of House ring for all to see, he proclaimed, "Never fear - For, _I_ am here." And struck another pose.

A couple of the young girls sitting near the head of the Ravenclaw table loudly sighed and pretended to swoon before giggling madly.

Cygnus and Sirius both roared with laughter while Isabel and Gran both tutted and rolled their eyes.

"_Really_, Mister Potter," came the voice of Professor McGonagall from behind him.

"Ah!" said Harry, surprised, before he could internally recover. "Such dulcet and melodious tones are _truly_ music to my unworthy ears. It must be an angel, come to give me her blessings." He turned around to see Professor McGonagall standing over near the head table.

She stood there, trying hard not to smirk back. It wasn't helping her that Cygnus was head down on the Ravenclaw table guffawing and slapping the table top; or, that Sirius had fallen backwards off the bench and was rolling on his back on the floor laughing his butt off.

"Professor McGonagall!" Harry cheekily exclaimed in a chipper voice. "What an absolute _joy_ it is to see you. My day keeps getting better and better!"

Without even saying a word, the oft-stern Transfigurations Professor hesitated for the barest of moments before she spun about and hurried out of the Hall via the teacher's entrance.

He also hadn't noticed that Daphne had entered the Hall and come up the side of the table to look down at a giggling Sirius lying on the floor.

"Really, Lord Black," she expostulated. "Is _this_ the behaviour we should come to expect from the Lord of an Ancient House?" And looked over at her father who had hiccups and tears in his eyes from laughing too much.

"Darling!" said Harry, overly gaily, as he spun on hearing her voice.

"Harry James Potter," she glared at Harry. "What have you _done_ to two of our Lords?"

Sirius had finally managed to regain control of himself and was using the bench to try and regain his feet.

"I have merely provided light and humorous entertainment while others have engaged in jovial conversation and contemplative study," he brightly replied with a flourishing bow.

That set the two men off a little again.

"You broke them," she sternly said.

"Nay, darling," replied Harry. "They are merely appreciative connoisseurs of fine humour and gaiety."

Daphne just rolled her eyes and sighed.

Gran smirked and said, "I think we best leave while we still can." Before she stood and cast a quick Cleaning Charm to the back of Sirius's robes.

The other adults rose as Harry came back around. He offered his elbow with a flourish and said, "May I have the honour of escorting my lady?"

Daphne glared at him and asked, "What have you been drinking?" But she took his elbow as they began to head for the main doors.

With a cheeky grin, he replied, "I have supped from the fountain of life only, dear heart. Verily, I find myself somewhat _giddy_ in the joy of existence."

"Verily?" asked Daphne, glancing over and cocking an eyebrow. "Only _you_ would think a word like 'verily' is still used in common parlance."

"Says the lady who used the word 'parlance' in a like manner," he retorted.

From behind, Harry heard the adults snickering and chatting.

_‗_  
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\""/

After being side-along apparated from outside the front gates of the castle to the apparation point in Diagon Alley, their little party made their way into Gringotts.

Just inside the doors they were greeted by a goblin who had hurried over. He bowed to Cygnus, Sirius and Harry before he said, "Lord Potter, Master Account Keeper Bloodfang is expecting you. Please, follow me." He spun on the spot and marched off across the hall to the doors at the rear.

Still escorting Daphne, he followed along as they were led down the back hallway to the doors, wherein he knew Bloodfang made his office.

After being bid to enter, the party filed inside. Harry made the introductions before he and Daphne took seat in front with the adults seated behind along the back wall.

"Lord Potter," began Bloodfang. "I'm pleased you have decided to attend Gringotts with such haste."

"Your missive implied haste was needed," said Harry.

"Indeed," replied Bloodfang. "The Minister is not happy you have taken your mantle as Lord. He has attempted to block you access by way of Ministerial decree."

"He _dares_?" exclaimed Cygnus.

"He does," replied Bloodfang as he slid parchment work across his desk to Harry. "My Lord, I need you to sign these documents. Once they are signed they will be magically filed, both here and at the Ministry. Once that is done, the Minister's current efforts to have you stripped of your Lordship will be circumvented."

Dewey came forward and read the documents over Harry's shoulder. Bloodfang also placed before Harry a blood quill ready to sign each document.

As Dewey finished each, he tapped it and said to Harry, "Sign it." Which Harry did.

As he signed the last document and they were slid back to Bloodfang, Harry asked, "You said the Minister's _current_ efforts; do you anticipate others?"

"Yes," replied Bloodfang. "Our - informants - within the Ministry believe he is attempting to have your Lordship overturned by having you stripped of your emancipation." He then hesitated a few moments before he said, "However - there is one sure way that it cannot happen."

Harry stared at Bloodfang and frowned. "You're being reticent in telling me how, my friend. That is quite unlike you."

Bloodfang placed the seal of Gringotts on each document before tapping the seal and causing the document to vanish with a flash of magic.

Once he was done, Bloodfang looked back at Harry and said, "The betrothal contract between yourself and Lady Daphne." He gestured to her. "States that you are to marry once you come of age. It does not, however, state Lady Daphne must also be of age."

Harry gasped in surprise. Daphne suddenly gripped Harry's left hand very tightly, while he was madly reading the contract in his mind.

After a few moments he sighed and said, "Damn. No, it doesn't." Turning to Daphne he said, "I'm so sorry. I did not consider the impact my becoming emancipated would have on our betrothal contract."

Cygnus cleared his throat and said, "Harry; this was somewhat anticipated. As you are a little over a month younger than Daphne, it was always expected she would be of age before you. As such, we never considered the possibility of you being emancipated at such an early age.

"However, we also knew this might be a possibility, if Dewey's other efforts to have you removed from the tournament failed."

Harry nodded and looked back at Bloodfang. "How would our being married circumvent the Minister?"

"A marriage ceremony undergone with the blessing of magic cannot be undone _without_ the blessing of magic," replied Bloodfang. "Once you are married, the Ministry _cannot_ strip you of your emancipation, even if you wanted to be."

"It seems like using a war-axe to cut kindling to me," sighed Harry.

He turned to the adults and said, "Now that those documents are signed and filed, it's going to take time for the Minister to shift his focus. I'd rather call the Minister out for attempting to interfere in the practices of an Ancient House than be forced to marry so soon, when we're both not ready for that commitment."

Cygnus nodded and said, "I'll speak directly with the Chief Witch, Griselda Marchbanks, and demand an emergency session of the Wizengamot..."

"I'll second it," interrupted Sirius.

"Thank you," said Cygnus with a nod towards Sirius. "We'll need a Wizengamot led investigation into the actions of the Minister. If necessary, a vote of no confidence in him will also need to be filed. While it might not work, it'll hamstring him in taking any further pro-action until it's resolved."

"If I've already taken my seat in the Wizengamot, that will put paid to his shenanigans, as well," said Harry.

Cygnus sat thinking for a little while and said, "The last time anyone was allowed to take their seat in an emergency session of the Wizengamot was during the last war. And, even then, the emergency session was for the purpose of allowing that to happen."

"There's no reason an emergency session has to be for only one item," said Harry. "It could be to allow me to take my seat _and_ to start an investigation into the actions of the Minister."

"Good point," mused Cygnus. He turned to Gran and asked, "Augusta? You're current Regent for House Potter - Well, you would be proxy now - How do you feel about this?"

Gran nodded and said, "Let's get Harry inducted onto the Wizengamot. He can then, if he wishes, retain me as Proxy. I think Griselda will call the emergency session once we explain to her what Cornelius is up to. She's _never_ liked the idea of the Ministry interfering with the business of the Ancient Houses."

Harry turned to Daphne and said, "Daphne. Please don't think I'm trying to find a way out of marrying you. I'm not. I'm trying to find a way out of marrying you _right now_, because I have to. I want you to have the big, lavish wedding you and your Mum have probably dreamed about. And being forced into it right now will deny you that."

Daphne smiled back and said, "I know. But, thank you for being considerate enough think of my feelings in this."

Harry smiled back before turning to Bloodfang, "My friend, I'm going to need the documentation for me to take my seat on the Wizengamot; and then hand my proxy off to Madam Longbottom. We'll be holding off on the marriage ceremony for now; but, have the parchmentwork ready, just in case."

Bloodfang nodded and got to work by drawing out a couple of sheets of parchment and his quill.

Harry turned back to the adults and asked Dewey, "Dewey? You've been awful quiet. Do you think the emergency session is the way to go forward?"

He nodded and said, "I do."

"Alright," said Cygnus. "We have a plan of action; plus, a fallback if it's needed. Once Bloodfang's finished the parchmentwork we need to head directly to speak with Madam Marchbanks. We have a fair bit to do and not a lot of time to do it before the Minister tries something else."

"But, why is the Minister so determined to stop Harry taking up his Lordship?" asked Isabel.

"_He_'s not," replied Cygnus. "It'll be Malfoy and his ilk. I daresay they've had this ready to go since Dewey and I first applied for Harry to be emancipated a few weeks ago. Fudge wouldn't have done anything unless Malfoy told him to."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

From the bank, the party, except for Dewey, headed directly to the Ministry. Dewey headed back to his own offices.

They found Madam Marchbanks in the Chief Witch's office. The place she would often be found since the ouster of Dumbledore, and where he was rarely found.

Entering the outer office, Cygnus approached the young secretary and asked, "Could you please inform the Chief Witch that Lords Greengrass, Black and Potter - and Lady Greengrass and Dowager Lady Longbottom - would like a word?"

The young witch looked up with a bit of awe before she hurriedly rose from her desk and said, "One moment, My Lords and Ladies." She dashed to the door of the Chief Witch, knocked quickly and ducked inside.

A few moments later, she came out and held the door open. "Madam Marchbanks will see you now," she said.

The party entered the office to Madam Marchbanks struggling to rise from behind her desk.

"Sit down, please, Griselda," said Cygnus. "None of us expect you to rise for us, you know that."

With a nod, the old witch retook her seat and drew it back in to her desk. With a light cough she asked, "Cygnus? I take it this is an urgent matter?"

Sirius conjured more seating across from the Chief Witch and the party took seats.

"Yes, Griselda, it is," replied Cygnus, sitting down. "Fudge has just attempted to strip a new Lord of his emancipation, within mere hours of him accepting it, and is attempting to stop the boy from taking his rightful seat."

Madam Marchbanks frowned and said, "That's a pretty damning allegation. Perhaps, you should start at the beginning and let me see if I can determine what is going on."

Cygnus then ran through the events of the day and what they had discovered when they visited Gringotts.

As he talked, she questioned. And Harry realised that, though she was of great age, she was still a very sharp lady. It added to the high esteem he held of her from the trials.

When Cygnus finished, the Chief Witch turned to Harry and asked, "I take it, it is your intention to retain your Lordship and take seat on the Wizengamot?"

"To retain my Lordship and hand my proxy over to Madam Longbottom," he easily replied. "I find myself quite offended the Minister is attempting to deny me my rightful seat before he has even met me to make such a decision."

"Indeed," she said. "Such actions offend me, too."

She leaned back in her chair and said to Cygnus, "Under my authority I'll call the emergency session for tomorrow evening. I agree, it appears necessary young Lord Potter should be inducted into the Wizengamot with all due haste. And, I further agree the Wizengamot needs, through its own authority, to investigate the Minister in his actions.

"However, I won't allow the investigation to be - if you'll pardon the pun - a witch hunt. The investigation will be specific in finding out why the Minister is trying to block Mister Potter's elevation; that is all. We'll also put in place an embargo on the Minister and the Ministry taking any such action until the investigation is complete."

"That's all we ask, Griselda," said Cygnus. "Thank you."

After the meeting, and back out in the atrium, Harry said, "Nice lady."

Cygnus said, "She is. One of the few within the Ministry I'm confident to say is completely incorruptible. She can also be utterly ruthless when she wants to be."

Escorted by Sirius, Harry and Daphne floo'ed back to Diagon Alley so Harry could be fitted with Wizengamot robes at Madam Malkin's. As they needed to be customised with the Potter House crest, he promised he would return early the next evening to pick them up before floo'ing to the Ministry.

Afterwards, he, Daphne and Sirius floo'ed to Hogsmeade and walked to the gates of the castle. Sirius bid them a safe walk back and headed back to the Ministry to meet up with Cygnus, Isabel and Gran. The Greengrasses and Madam Longbottom stayed at the Ministry. They claimed other business to which they needed to attend. Harry suspected they would be questioning their own contacts to see if they could discover just why they were attempting to deny Harry his emancipation and Lordship.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Daphne had returned late afternoon and headed to their dorms to get changed out of their 'spiffy' robes back into school robes. They met up, again, in the Come and Go Room.

The first to see Harry walk in, Neville asked, "How'd it go?"

Harry explained what he, Daphne and the adults discovered. And what he and the others then did to block the attempted circumvention.

"So, I'm going to have to get spiffed-up again tomorrow, early evening, and head to the Wizengamot chambers. Sirius will be waiting for me outside the gates to escort me," he said.

He hadn't heard Daphne walk in, and didn't know she was there until she said, "He'll be escorting _us_, Harry. I intend to be there to see you inducted."

Harry turned and smiled. "You don't have to, you know," he said.

"I want to," she said, walking around the lounges and sofa to take a seat at her and his normal seat.

Harry joined her and softly said, "Thank you. I'd like that."

She smiled and kissed him on the cheek. Turning to the others, she said, "Anyway. Homework from today?"

Hermione handed over what she'd written down for Herbology to Harry and DADA to Daphne. And they were quickly working on long assignments. Harry received his Potions assignment from Susan and an explanation of the potion they made.

_‗_  
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The next evening, Harry waited in the Entrance Hall for Daphne and, together, they walked to the front gate. Sirius waited just beyond.

A quick floo to Diagon Alley and Harry was in Madam Malkin's to collect his robes. Sirius told him to wait on wearing them until he was in the antechamber of the Wizengamot to don them. He showed his own robes in a package in his pocket.

After arriving at the Ministry and passing through the checkpoint, Sirius escorted them down to the chamber on the tenth floor. Daphne was escorted into the VIP guest section of the visitors' gallery, and Sirius took Harry through to the waiting area.

Harry quickly donned his new robes and was shortly joined by Cygnus, Gran and Aunt Amelia.

Cygnus said, "Isabel's sitting with Daphne. Now that you're ready we're taking you through to the House Potter meeting room behind the tiers. Its blood warded, so you're going to need to press your thumb on the impression. It will take a small blood sample to open the door."

Harry followed Cygnus and Sirius through another door into a passageway that curved around behind where he knew the Wizengamot tiers were found. He passed a number of doors before Cygnus stopped at one that bore the Potter House crest on the door.

Above the handle was the indentation for a thumb lock. He pressed his left thumb to the indentation, and suddenly felt like a thumb tack lightly stabbed him on the ball of his thumb. A moment later, there was a click as the sound of a lock disengaged.

He took a breath and opened the door into a decent sized room, clearly wizard-spaced as the doors either side of his own were too close for it to be otherwise. He stepped in and the others followed in behind.

Looking around he saw a small desk off to one side with a comfortable office chair. A couple of chairs on the other side showed for guests. There was also a group of four armchairs around a centred occasional table set up for discussions. On the far wall was a large fireplace.

Turning to Cygnus he asked, "Is the fireplace connected to the floo network?"

"No," replied Cygnus. "They used to be - before the war - now it's considered a security risk. They haven't been reconnected since."

Harry nodded before he changed the subject. "What happens now?" he asked.

"We four have to meet in the assembly room at the other end of the passageway," replied Cygnus. "You wait here until your Gran and I come and get you and escort you onto the floor of the chamber. There, we will present you to the Wizengamot. Simply answer the questions asked of you, and you will shortly be told to take your seat. You can sit anywhere you like that isn't already occupied."

Harry nodded, and quietly said, "Thank you."

Sirius reached out and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Relax, Harry," he said. "It's just the way things are done. It'll only be a few minutes."

Harry nodded again before both Gran and Aunt Amelia stepped forward to give him a hug, offering their own soothing words.

After they left, Harry took to exploring the reasonably sized room. He sat at the desk and tested out the drawers. The top draw on the either side also had blood locks. Opening them, he discovered there was little in them other than blank parchment. It wasn't until he looked at the blotter before him that he noticed an envelope tucked just under the edge of the blotter.

Pulling it out he saw it was addressed to 'Lord Harry James Potter'. It was written in his father's spidery handwriting.

He quickly opened the envelope and pulled out the small note within.

_Dear Harry,_

_Congratulations on coming of age. If you are reading this you are clearly about to assume your rightful place on the Wizengamot. It's a huge step._

_By now you've re-established the Alliances and, I suspect, it will be two of Cygnus, Frank, Arcturus, Benjamin or their successors who will escort you through to be inducted._

_When you walk onto the floor, remember to stand proud. You are a Potter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter. You are powerful. People respect you._

_Listen to the advice of your allies, but make your own decisions. And, you will do fine._

_Dad_

Harry smiled and refolded the letter. After sliding it back into the envelope he pocketed it and thought about his father's words. He found them - comforting. And wondered how many other letters from his father he would come across in future.

Getting up from the desk he walked over to a filing cabinet and, again, opened a blood lock to peek within. This time, it was filled with manila folders in a muggle style. Taking a couple of them back to the desk he opened them and saw documents dating back to the late 1970s and early 1980. The latest were often intelligence on Death Eater movements and background information on one's that were known about.

'Hmm,' he thought. 'That may come in handy in future.'

He closed the folders back up and returned them to the filing cabinet, locking it, once more.

He then moved on to a tall cabinet. When he opened it, he saw it was filled with bottles of wizard and muggle spirits; many of them only partially full. Set in the door were what looked like little potions phials, with Pepper-Up Potion and Calming Draughts being prevalent. Of course, they were all beyond their use-by date.

He smiled knowing why they were there. It explained how previous Lord Potters were always seen as being alert and calm when the chamber devolved into semi-controlled chaos.

He had just closed the cabinet again when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, he was greeted by Cygnus and Gran.

"Ready, Harry?" asked Cygnus.

Harry smiled and nodded. "Let's do this," he replied.

Both grinned back.

As he was escorted back out the passageway through which he was originally led in, Cygnus quietly said, "Fudge was right ropable when he found out you were being inducted tonight. He's been doing everything he can to try and block it. However, it's been in vain. You will be inducted tonight."

"However," said Gran. "You're going to have to hold off on handing me your proxy. He _did_ manage to get the proxy hand-off blocked as that wasn't specifically on the docket for tonight. That doesn't change things, other than you'll have to remain for the entire session instead of being allowed to leave early."

"Because it's an emergency session it won't be long, anyway," said Cygnus. "After your induction, we will immediately get to the Wizengamot investigation into Fudge. I do not see that taking too long."

Then they were there at the doors leading out onto the floor. Hesitating a moment, Cygnus asked, "Ready to go?"

Harry took a couple of deep breaths and nodded. He stood up proudly and pushed the door open. And strode out into the middle of the floor. Gran and Cygnus took up station on either side of him. The members watched him come with barely a murmur.

After a couple of moments of hesitation, Madam Marchbanks asked in a clear voice, "Who presents this new Lord before us for induction into the honoured ranks of the Wizengamot?"

"I do, Chief Witch," replied Cygnus. "Lord Cygnus Greengrass of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass."

"And, I do, Chief Witch," replied Gran. "Dowager Lady Augusta Longbottom, Regent Longbottom and Regent Potter, of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom."

"And who do you present?" asked the Chief Witch.

"We present Lord Harry Potter of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, Chief Witch Marchbanks," replied Cygnus.

"Is our young lord of age?" asked the Chief Witch.

"He is not!" snarled a rather portly little man. Under his purple Wizengamot robes he wore a bottle green pinstriped suit and scarlet tie. His rumpled grey hair looked to be parted down the middle and had a sparse moustache.

Harry took one look at him and wondered how the hell he managed to be elected. Clearly, there were no coloured photographs of the man.

"He is!" snapped Cygnus back in a loud and carrying voice. "He was emancipated only yesterday during the first event of the Tri-Wizard Tournament being held at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

"His emancipation was not approved!" snapped the little man right back.

Madam Marchbanks banged a gavel a couple of times and regained silence. She snapped at the little man, "You will remain silent, Minister Fudge."

Once she knew she had it, she turned to a young man sitting at the end of the bottom row of tiers. "Mister Fawcett; do the records show that Mister Potter is emancipated?"

The young man looked a bit fearfully at Fudge before he glanced back down at his records. He flipped through the pages of a book before he looked back at the Chief Witch and said, "Harry James Potter, born 31st of July 1980, aged 14, emancipated by official representative of the Minister, Mister Bartemius Crouch Senior, at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, on the 24th of November 1994, at 2.37pm. And recognised by magic one minute later."

Fudge surged to his feet again and shouted, "Crouch was not authorised to make such a determination. He exceeded his authority. As such, the emancipation is void!"

Madam Marchbanks banged her gave a few more times and turned to Fudge. "Sit down, Minister!" she barked back.

Fudge resumed his seat.

"Clearly," she said, a smidge quieter, "you did not pay attention to the part where it said magic has recognised the emancipation. Whether or not you believe Mister Crouch had the authority, magic recognised he _did_. As such, we have no choice but to accept Mister Potter was emancipated at that time. Now be _silent_!"

Fudge fumed where he sat but didn't respond.

Madam Marchbanks glared at Fudge for a few moments longer before she turned back to Harry and his 'escort'. "As Chief Witch I acknowledge Mister Harry James Potter has been lawfully emancipated."

When it looked like Fudge was going to open his mouth again, she glared at him and raised her gavel. The portly little man quietened down again; and Madam Marchbanks lowered her gavel back onto the bench before her.

She turned back to Harry and asked, "Has Mister Potter accepted his Lordship?"

"He has, Chief Witch," replied Cygnus firmly with a glare at Fudge.

Fudge surged to his feet again, anyway. He was clearly becoming desperate. "He's too young!" he snarled. "He's not yet ready to be seated..."

Madam Marchbanks banged her gavel a few more times before she finally snapped out, "_Minister Fudge!_"

The man, who was publicly proving himself to be an idiot, finally regained his seat in a sulk.

Madam Marchbanks let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to Harry and his two escorts. She looked at Madam Longbottom and asked, "Madam Longbottom, as Regent for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter, is it _your_ opinion Lord Potter is ready to take his seat among us?"

"It is, Chief Witch," stated Gran firmly.

"Then that is _all_ we need to know on _that_ matter," she said with a sideways look at the Minister.

She then looked firmly at Harry and said, "Lord Potter, as you have been found to be of age, have accepted your Lordship and have been found to be ready to accept your seat by your Regent, as Chief Witch, I welcome you into our ranks. Please come forward and take seat among us."

The entire seated Wizengamot, with a few notable exceptions, rose and applauded Harry as Cygnus and Gran escorted him up into the tiers. He was guided into a seat between Cygnus and Sirius.

Given the supposed nature of the Houses of Greengrass and Black, that surprised a few members who didn't seem to know of Harry's relationship to the two men. That surprised Harry, seeing as his betrothal to Daphne, and that Sirius was his godfather, were well and truly public knowledge.

Harry looked up and across to the visitors' gallery and saw Daphne and Isabel almost bouncing in their seats in happiness for him. He grinned back and gave a small nod. Some of the other members came around and offered their own congratulations to him. Both Cygnus and Sirius whispered to him about who each member was and to which House they belonged.

Harry was gracious in his thanks to each.

Once it appeared the congratulations had settled down, Madam Marchbanks banged her gavel a few times and called the meeting back to order.

"The second item of business has been kept under wraps under my own authority as Chief Witch," she said.

Harry was surprised to hear that, he didn't know they hadn't made it public.

"By formal request from the Houses of Greengrass and Black, further supported by the Houses of Longbottom and Bones, a motion has been made to enact a formal Wizengamot investigation into the office of the Minister of Magic..."

The members of the Wizengamot, including the Minister himself, went bananas. There was shouting and accusations flying all over the place.

Madam Marchbanks calmly took up her gavel again and started banging it. After the first ten bangs with no change in the volume, she put the gavel aside and drew her wand. She caused a huge bang to be ejected by her wand that was near deafening. Finally, the members settled down.

"To continue," she said. "... into the office of the Minister of Magic into his interference of the birthright practices of a Noble and Most Ancient House; namely, the House of Potter."

After a short hesitation she called, "Lord Greengrass, the floor is yours. Members are - once again - reminded they are to remain silent while Lord Greengrass speaks."

Cygnus calmly stood and said, "Honoured members. Tonight you were witnesses to the latest attempt by the Minister, in attempting to interfere in the succession rights of an Ancient House, ..."

After an hour of 'to and fro' the investigation was approved by clear majority. Fudge tried to circumvent the investigation by immediately resigning. However, he failed to grasp that the investigation wasn't into 'Cornelius Fudge'; but, into the entire office of the Minister of Magic.

Those involved in the investigation included Cygnus, Aunt Amelia (as Regent for the House of Bones), Madam Marchbanks herself, an Elphias Doge, and two members Cygnus told Harry were 'Imperioused' Death Eaters. Both Cygnus and Sirius were happy as the people involved would ensure the investigation would not be wasted.

By the time the session was closed, Harry was almost asleep. Some members' droning manner of speaking was quite soporific. It was only rising and walking down to get changed, that Harry was able to stop from nodding off.

He went into the Potter office and stripped off his Wizengamot robe before changing back into his nice business style acromantula robe. Leaving the Wizengamot robe hanging from a hook behind the door he stepped out and made his way back to the main floor of the chamber, and met with Isabel, Sirius and Daphne.

Sirius looked at him and said, "Cygnus and your Aunt Amelia have headed straight for the Minister's offices to seal them under the imprimatur of the Wizengamot before Fudge or any of his lackey's can get there to - abscond - with any evidence. As Head of the DMLE, Amelia has placed two auror guards directly outside the doors for the night. They're going to commence the investigation first thing in the morning."

"That explains why I saw Lord Malfoy practically bolt out of the chambers while still wearing his Wizengamot robes," smirked Harry. "Maybe he was keen to get started on the investigation for himself."

"Yes," smirked Sirius right back. "Maybe someone should have told him that Amelia had already sent a message via her auror badge to her department and two aurors were already stationed outside the Minister's offices with orders not to let anyone in, including members of the Wizengamot until 8.00am tomorrow morning."

Harry chuckled.

As they were heading through the atrium - quiet, due to the time of night - Harry was scanning around looking for threats. He noticed Sirius was doing the same.

Harry said, "I wonder how long it's going to take the Wizengamot to figure out they've just given the Head of the DMLE carte blanche to search through everything in the Minister's offices."

Sirius looked askance back and said, "The Wizengamot investigation is only into Fudge's interference in your House's business, Pup."

"I know," said Harry, with a bit of a shrug. "However, if they find anything _else_ that might be criminal in nature, while they're searching for that - Well, Aunt Amelia has _no choice_ but to act as Head of the DMLE and investigate, doesn't she? Just because she's not _looking_ for anything else, does not imply she's not going to _find_ anything else, yes?"

Sirius suddenly stopped and looked at Harry in shock. After a moment his face slowly morphed into a wide gleeful grin. "That's brilliant!" he softly exclaimed. "That's - _bloody_ - brilliant!"

Turning to Isabel, he asked, "Isabel, did you get that?"

"I did," she smirked. "I'll let Cygnus know tonight. I don't know if he's already figured that out, yet."

Sirius just barked with laughter and led the way to the outbound fireplaces so their small party could floo through to the Three Broomsticks.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	67. Winky

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Seven - Winky**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Daphne returned to Hogwarts too late in the evening to meet their friends, so headed straight to their dormitories. It wasn't until the next morning they all met up again, at the Hufflepuff table.

Hermione leaned forward from where she was sitting opposite and asked, "What happened last night?"

"Oh," said Harry. "I was elevated to my seat on the Wizengamot. Fudge tried to stop it but failed. Straight after that, the Wizengamot voted to run a Wizengamot led investigation into the office of the Minister of Magic.

"Fudge then resigned before the vote could be taken - he clearly thought he could stop it by doing so - but he failed to grasp that the investigation isn't into _him_, it's into the _office_ of the Minister of Magic; which is what one of the other members immediately pointed out. So, his resignation was accepted on the spot and the vote went ahead. It was comfortably passed.

"As soon as it was passed, Aunt Amelia used her auror badge to send in two aurors to immediately toss out anyone who was still inside the Minister's offices, even at that time of night, then seal and guard the door until this morning; when the investigation officially begins.

"The funny thing was watching Lucy Malfoy bolt out of the chambers as soon as the gavel fell to close the session, _without_ even bothering to doff his Wizengamot robes first. I think he was trying to get to the Minister's offices before anyone else could. The pity for him is that the aurors were already in place well before he could have got there.

"Aunt Amelia isn't stupid. She anticipated what was going to happen and moved first. _Un_officially, I think she already had her aurors securing the office as soon as the Wizengamot session began; _before_ the motion was even raised."

When the mail arrived, Harry received his Daily Prophet from Hedwig and handed her a couple of slices of bacon as a reward. He then received a letter from Isabel, who wrote she'd passed the message on to Cygnus who laughed and was very happy.

The headline of the Prophet made Harry laugh, but the story was - troubling.

_THE BOY WHO CANCELLED THE TRI-WIZARD TOURNAMENT_

_Yesterday afternoon the fourth so-called unwilling competitor in the Tri-Wizard Tournament used trickery to wheedle his way out of the tournament causing it to be cancelled, writes Rita Skeeter, your special correspondent._

_In an argument across the stands surrounding the competitor's arena, the so-called fourth competitor used verbal chicanery to get the Ministry Representative to attempt to force through a change to the contract governing the tournament._

_It is feared this trickery will result in the Ministry representative, Mister Bartemius Crouch, losing his magic and, possibly, his very life. We hope this foul deed will be recognised by the Goblet of Fire for what it is, and the so-called fourth competitor is the one who will lose his magic._

_Mister Crouch and the three Headmasters of Hogwarts, Beauxbatons and Durmstrang will now need to work long hours to rectify the situation and allow the honourable competitors to continue on their quest for glory._

_It makes one wonder just why the fourth competitor entered, at all. Was he looking just to spoil it for everyone because the tournament would take the limelight off him?_

* # *

Further down, Harry saw a second article that was far more interesting.

_THE BOY WHO WAS ELEVATED - THE MINISTER WHO RESIGNED_

_Last night, in an emergency session of the Wizengamot, our most famous Head of a Noble and Most Ancient House was elevated to his seat on the Wizengamot, writes __Monty Wordsworth_.

_Earlier in the day, in a shocking turn of events, this Head's emancipation was accepted by the Minister's personal representative to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, Mister Bartemius Crouch. Immediately on emancipation the young man accepted his Lordship._

_This new Lord, who we are not permitted to identify due to an unfair exclusive media arrangement with a competitor, was accepted among his new peers on the Wizengamot to applause by said peers. The young man in question was presented by Lord Cygnus Greengrass and Madam Augusta Longbottom. On no less than three separate occasions Minister Fudge unsuccessfully attempted to block his elevation._

_Immediately after the new Lord was seated, the second item of business was announced. Lord Greengrass successfully moved to hold a Wizengamot led investigation into the office of the Minister of Magic regarding his attempts to stop the new Lord from being elevated to the Wizengamot._

_Unsurprisingly, the Minister resigned before the vote could be taken. However, the investigation wasn't into Mister Fudge; but was, instead, into his office. As such, the debate continued until a successful resolution was reached. It appears the Lords and Ladies of the Wizengamot do not take kindly to the Ministry attempting to interfere with their rites of succession._

_We look forward to the near future when this investigation is concluded and they report their findings._

* # *

Harry handed the paper to Daphne and indicated the two articles.

After she read them she grinned back. "That's typical Skeeter; but, I'm finding I like our Mister Wordsworth more and more," she said.

"As am I," said Harry. "I feel some remorse for arranging the exclusive media contract with Luna, as it applies to our Mister Wordsworth. If I could have allowed an exception for him, I would have. However, his editor, Barnaby Cuffe, would have - corrupted it, as Mister Wordsworth is essentially his employee."

"Cuffe would have simply used Mister Wordsworth's by-line for every article about you," said Daphne.

"I know," he replied. "Hence, why I couldn't do it."

"Write him a letter, apologising to him," she said. "One that lays out why you took out the exclusive contract."

Harry thought about that for a few moments, before he said, "You're right; I should. And, I will."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At an undisclosed location - known as Riddle Manor - Pettigrew had to make himself scarce. His master was in a complete snit that his carefully laid plans to have Potter where he wanted him on the 24th of June, had collapsed. He ranted and raved; and Pettigrew believed he would probably have been killed by his master if his master did not still desperately need him.

His master had somewhat destroyed the room in which he stayed, and it was a while before he calmed.

"Wormtail!" Baby-Riddle breezily shouted. "Wormtail; I need my potion!"

Baby-Riddle could feel he was close to losing magical control of the infant he possessed. Only through use of the snake venom potion could he hold it.

Pettigrew, knowing his master had calmed once more, quickly brought in the potion and assisted his master to drink it.

Once he had imbibed the foul concoction, baby-Riddle said, "We need a new plan. It would be better to have that strategic mind of Lucius assisting us; but, he cannot be trusted, at the moment."

"I know it was the plan for the Potter boy to be captured while he competed in the final task, Master," said Pettigrew. "However, just because he will no longer be competing - can he not still be captured at that time, while all others are focussed on the final task?"

Baby-Riddle stared at Pettigrew for a few moments before he smirked. "Well, Wormtail; it appears you do have flashes of brilliance come upon you at odd moments."

"I live to serve, Master," said Pettigrew, with his eyes turned down.

"Of course you do," said baby-Riddle. "Leave me now. I need to think on what you've told me."

Pettigrew bowed deeply and fled the room.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The investigation into the affairs of the Minister's office took a decidedly gleeful turn for House Potter and their allies when a secret drawer was found in the Minister's desk. Inside, was a slim ledger that listed what they discovered to be bribes paid to the Minister. And bribes the Minister paid to some of his underlings.

The last one was from Lucius Malfoy - as were many of the others - and the line item of the last one was for Fudge to block Harry's elevation to his seat on the Wizengamot. That explained Malfoy's sudden dash from the Wizengamot session the couple of night's previous. The little rotund fool had kept a ledger, not only of the bribes he'd accepted or paid, but also included the why's as line items. Apparently Aunt Amelia had done a little jig, right there in front of the now ex-Minister's desk.

The list of those arrested included: Lucius Malfoy; Delores Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary for the Minister; Pius Thicknesse, a Senior Auror, bribed to keep quiet about something he found in Malfoy Manor during a search a couple years ago; Marjorie Edgecombe, Head of the Floo Network Authority and mother of Fifth Year Ravenclaw Marietta Edgecombe, who monitored the floo network to track movements of certain people Fudge wanted to know about - including Harry Potter; and an Addison Yaxley who bribed Fudge for Fudge to drop investigating his dealings with the muggles.

There were others. Quite a few of them, in fact. But Fudge, Malfoy and the Umbridge woman were all definitely going to Azkaban. Others were going to be heavily fined and dismissed from service within the Ministry. But, all that could not happen until they were given trials.

"And how goes the search for a new Minister?" Harry asked his godfather via his mirror that night.

"The politicking and other manoeuvring has commenced," replied Sirius. "I'm surprised you haven't been approached, yet."

"Who said I haven't?" asked Harry a little cheekily. "There's a couple of Slytherins and Ravenclaws here, who've already come asking who I think would make a good Minister. One even alluded to someone of no consequence, as he's a - former - masked moron."

"Do you have someone in mind?" asked Sirius.

"Nope. Only who I don't want," he replied. "If they once wore a mask, they're out. If they work for the current Ministry - except for Aunt Amelia or any of her top Aurors - they're out. Oh, except for Arthur Weasley. Him, I like."

"That's a little unfair," said Sirius. "You've only met a few who work for the Ministry. Most of them are good people."

"True," mused Harry. "I'll probably wait, then, until the Prophet starts making their recommendations and cross them off the list, then."

Sirius laughed. "You need to take this seriously, Harry. It's an important job."

"I _am_," Harry countered. "That's why I'll only cross them off if the Prophet supports them. Anyone the Prophet supports is probably someone who bribed them." He then sighed and said, "I'll talk to Daphne - and you lot - and you can recommend who I should vote for. However, I will not be politicking for them. If they ask; they're off the list."

"Fair call," said Sirius.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

That evening, Luna approached him for the first of the three interviews for the year he'd promised her. She carried it out in their Room with the others of the Eight, plus the Weasley twins, in attendance.

Her interview style was, as expected, pretty relaxed. She asked all the right questions - which even surprised Daphne - and Harry answered them all honestly, and efficiently. There were even a couple of questions aimed Daphne's way; but, Luna told her not to answer them if she didn't want to, and she wouldn't include the fact she didn't want to in the piece.

Luna asked about how he felt when his name came out of the Goblet; how he felt about the other three contestants; who he felt would win; how his school mates were handling it all; how his close friends were handling it all; and how well he was doing in school.

She also covered the exclusive media contract and why Harry had agreed to one with Lovegood Publishing. He was full of praise for the Quibbler in their honourable approach to reporting, and said he thought the Prophet to be dishonest by reporting unsubstantiated rumours and half-truths as the whole unvarnished truth. As such he called the Prophet 'a written version of a neighbourhood gossip monger' that was only interested in sensationalism and what ever lies they could get away with so long as they continued to sell newspapers.

Luna then went into the events of the Chamber of Secrets and ensured she took down quotes from Neville, especially. She asked Daphne, Tracey and Hermione about their experiences being petrified; how Harry and the others felt about what was going on; and about the sub-standard teaching of 'Flophart'.

She lightly brushed over the betrothal and how both he and Daphne were coping with it; and even mentioned how close the two of them were.

"Of course," said Daphne, "Harry and I will be married this summer; so..."

"_What?_" squeaked Harry.

"We're getting married this summer, remember?" she asked. "It's in the contract. We are to be married the summer after you become of age or are emancipated sooner."

"_Gahh! I! Errr!_" spluttered Harry. He quickly read through the contract in his mind and found the relevant clause.

"Harry?" asked Daphne.

"Oh, my _God_!" he exclaimed. "I didn't realise! Oh, my _God_! Daphne!"

"Harry," said Daphne, growing quite concerned.

"When I became emancipated," said Harry, still in a bit of shock. "I didn't think about that specific clause in the contract! It just said we are to marry after I became 'of age', not _when_. I thought we could put it off until after we both graduated! Oh, my God!"

Daphne started giggling.

"Oh, my _God_!" he exclaimed again.

"Harry," she tried to soothe him while giggling. "We - that is, my parents and I - _did_ remember the clause in the contract. It just wasn't in the part about emancipation. We knew that if you had to use the emancipation trick to get out of the Goblet of Fire contract, we would have to marry this summer."

"But, I _didn't_!" exclaimed Harry. "That's one of the foibles of an eidetic memory. While I remember everything I cannot think of everything at the same time! I hadn't thought to check my memories of the betrothal contract to see that particular clause about emancipation."

"Well, darling," said Daphne. "You and I will be starting our Fifth Year as husband and wife; Lord and Lady Potter."

"Oh, my _God_!" he exclaimed again.

Daphne giggled some more before turning to Luna. "I will ask you not include any of that in the article, Luna."

Luna simply smiled and said, "I haven't even been writing any of it down. So, I agree, it's off the record, so to speak."

After Harry had managed to calm himself down again, Luna continued.

Ending the interview Luna touched a little on Harry's home life before he returned to the wizarding world; and how he was now coping some three and half years after leaving Privet Drive behind for good.

When the interview finished, Harry was surprised by how much he divulged. Luna just made him so relaxed he just talked without considering the consequences. However, it was Luna's job to interview him and she did an admirable job of it; so, he couldn't fault her for getting so much out of him.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A couple of days later, Harry learned via owl from Cygnus that Crouch had collapsed and was taken to Saint Mungo's hospital. It was believed he had collapsed from stress due to over work. He was currently being kept in a private room.

Harry wondered, however, if Crouch was actually losing his magic. Dewey assured him the Goblet of Fire would only strip him of his magic if it was Crouch's intent to breach the contract. As everyone knew it wasn't, they didn't think it would happen.

In Hogwarts, Harry also learned that the three real champions had each signed a new magical contract - one with signatures on parchment - to continue with the Tri-Wizard tournament. However, it didn't all go the Ministry's way, as the Ministry clearly expected it to. The three brought in Dewey and had him negotiate the contract on their behalf.

The contract was essentially the same. This time it had the proper dates included. It was also specifically written to include a competitor could withdraw at any time due to injury from either of the two remaining events without being in breach. And, the contract did not include the competitor was required to attend any other event bar the two remaining challenges.

When he approached Cedric about the rumours, Harry was informed the three champions were happy with the contract and wanted the event to go ahead. The added clauses in the contract also provided them relief against having their magics stripped if they could not compete when the remaining two events were to be held.

The Ministry was not happy to learn the champions could not be forced to attend the Yule Ball, as it was not considered an event of the Tri-Wizard Tournament, even though it was considered traditional. However, all three planned to attend anyway. They merely wanted the clause included in case some unforeseen emergency arose that meant they could not.

The other item the representatives of the Ministry tried to force through was an attempt to strip the competitors of their exclusive media contracts. Dewey resoundingly stymied that by stating the contracts could not be stripped, even if the competitors wanted them to be. The contracts were ironclad, and any clause in the new contract would automatically be void due to the pre-existing contract; so, it was pointless to include them.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

A few more days later and the issue of the Quibbler with Harry's interview was published. Harry was quick to read it and gave Luna a big hug in congratulations for such an excellent piece of journalism.

"You do wonderful work, dear Luna," said Harry with a big smile. "You clearly have a future in that field. Even if you don't choose to go into a career in journalism, I hope you consider a career as a writer."

"That is my intent, Harry," she replied with a wide beaming smile.

A few others in the Great Hall, that morning, also had copies of the Quibbler. There were a few Ravenclaws who had initially subscribed only to tease the girl about it; but, had kept their subscriptions after Harry had made her a Protectee of House Potter. They were looking at the girl with surprise.

Of course, the First and Second Years were not at school when everything came out over the Chamber of Secrets, and Harry's and Neville's involvement in it, and were now looking at both boys with not a little awe.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

It was the Monday evening after the first task when Dobby suddenly showed up in the Come and Go Room with another house elf. This one looked female as it was wearing what appeared to be a toddler girl's pink summer dress. It also appeared very drunk.

"Dobby?" asked Hermione. "Why are you here?"

"Dobby is sorry for not being at Mistress's home, Mistress Mi-nee," said the little elf. "Dobby's friend Winky is in need of help," he said gesturing to the other elf.

Almost unconsciously, Hermione muttered, "Hermione," while Dobby was speaking. "Besides looking like she's drunk, what's wrong with her?"

"Winky was personal house elf of House Crouch," replied Dobby. "But, her master gave her clothes because of something she didn't do."

"Winky is a bad elf!" the little elf wailed.

Harry frowned and looked at the little elf as it blubbered. "Winky!"

The little elf sniffled and looked at Harry. "Y-yes, Harry Potter sir?"

"What is it you were supposed to have done for your old master to give you clothes?" he asked.

"Winky is not being allowed to say," she blubbered. "It being House secret."

"You were the elf who was accused of casting the dark mark at the Quidditch World Cup, weren't you?" asked Tracey.

The little elf looked down and replied, "Master said Winky do it. But, Winky did not."

"That's impossible," huffed Hermione. "House elves cannot use wands."

"What do you want us to do to fix this, Dobby?" asked Daphne.

"Winky needs a new home, Miss," he said, almost hopefully.

Harry looked at Hermione. She immediately said, "Oh, no! My father still hasn't completely forgiven you for Dobby bonding with me."

The others snickered.

Thinking a moment, Harry then looked towards the twins, who were looking back from the potion station, where they were working on another prank potion.

"What..."

"... Harrikins?" they asked.

Daphne looked from Harry to the twins and back again, before she snorted in amusement.

"Oh, that's just perfect," said Tracey, giggling. She'd figured it out, too.

The others got it very quickly after that, except the twins.

Looking among themselves, for a few moments, Harry turned and grinned at the twins and said, "Oh, _bo-oys_. How would you like your own personal house elf?"

The twins glanced at one another before they replied, "Merlin..."

"... _no!_"

"Mum would..."

"... _kill_ us!"

Thinking a moment, Harry said, "True; she would."

He looked around and asked, "Luna?"

"Yes, Harry?" she asked.

"You do not have a house elf, do you?" he asked back.

"No," she replied. "I do not know why not. But, yes; I think House Lovegood can make use of her - _if_ she sobers up and stays that way."

"It's up to you, dear Luna," said Harry.

Luna thought it over and called Winky to stand before her. The hopeful little elf walked to stand in front of Luna.

"If I accept you on behalf of House Lovegood, will you stay sober and be a good elf?" asked Luna.

"Miss Luna wants Winky?" asked the little elf.

"If you're willing to stay sober; then, yes," replied Luna.

"Winky will do that," the little elf firmly replied.

Harry quickly wrote out the oath to bind Winky to House Lovegood and handed it to Luna. She held her hand out and placed it on the elf's forehead and gave the oath. Winky gave her part of the oath and there was the glow of binding taking place.

Dobby let out another "Yi-hoo!" with a fist pump in the air as Winky was immediately sober.

Luna smiled and looked down at the little elf and said, "My daddy lives at home, alone, for most of the year since I started Hogwarts. Your primary job is to look after him and make sure he looks after himself. If he asks who you are, you can tell him. And you can tell him you're mainly my elf and my Protector asked me to accept you."

"Yes, Mistress!" said the little elf. "Thank you, Mistress." She then popped away.

Hermione turned to Dobby and said, "You may go and help her settle in before returning to your normal duties."

"Thank you, Mistress Mi-Nee!" said Dobby, before he, too, popped away.

"It's _Hermione_!" muttered the girl with an exasperated sigh to spot where the elf stood.

Harry snickered. When she glared at him he said, "It's cute. He tries; really, he does."

"I know," she grumbled back with a pained expression.

"And, how are your parents holding up with Dobby?" asked Daphne.

Hermione brightened up and replied, "Oh, he and Daddy are best mates, now! Last summer, Daddy said he wanted to go hunting for red grouse and wished he could take Dobby with him to act as a game chaser.

"Dobby asked what a game chaser was, and he said the next moment Dobby looked like a beagle! He looked identical to the game chaser dog Daddy's friend, who often went with him, looked like. Daddy then recommended a few changes of colouring so Dobby didn't look like the same dog and he said Dobby was ready.

Then, the next Sunday, Dobby elf-apparated them both up here to Scotland and Daddy was able to bag three with Dobby chasing the grouse into the air!"

"What?" asked Daphne. "Do you mean to tell me house elves are _animaguses_?"

"Oh, no!" replied Hermione, with a grin. "It was a simple glamour. Dobby cast a glamour on himself to make people think he was a beagle! He even cast a sound-based glamour that made it seem like he was baying when he was yelling."

The pureblood among them where gobsmacked.

Hannah was the first to speak. "I think I speak for the rest of us when I tell you, we had no idea house elves could do that!"

"No, it wasn't in that book that Uncle Cygnus gave me, either," replied Hermione. "But daddy didn't know that. He thought it was normal for house elves to do it."

Harry laughed. "Typical!" he said. "There's an old muggle saying. If you want something impossible done; give it to someone who doesn't know it's impossible to do. It will then be done."

"Anything else he can do we didn't know elves could do?" asked Hannah.

"Well, he can use the same sort of glamour magic to look like a non-descript person when he's working outside," she said. "That's how he can get the outside work done in a muggle neighbourhood. Our neighbours think my parents have contracted a handyman-gardener to do the work for them."

"That's - wow!" said Susan in wonder. "I don't think my aunt knows they can do that."

"I don't think _anyone_ in the wizarding world knows they can do that," said Daphne.

"In my defence for not telling you earlier," said Hermione. "I thought everyone actually _did_."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Things were settling down again after the furore over Harry's withdrawal from the tournament, and the Eight were looking forward to the Ball - even though they were not supposed to know about it yet. However, that sort of information does not remain secret for long. When it was publically announced, there were very few who did not already know of it. But, the Third Years and down were quite disappointed to learn they could not attend unless someone Fourth Year and up asked them along as their date.

Neville, ever the gentleman, immediately turned to Luna and asked her to be his date to the Ball; which meant the Eight could attend, together, as they wanted to.

Once it was publically announced, Cygnus and Isabel began to visit the castle each Saturday as private tutors in dance. Originally, they were only there to teach the eight. However, many other students learned of the private tutoring and approached Harry begging to be allowed to be taught.

The lessons were held each Saturday in the Great Hall, and were open to Fourth Years and up, plus any younger years who were identified as dates of the older years for the Ball. They were also quickly joined by Professors McGonagall and Sprout and Sirius in teaching. Little Professor Flitwick happily looked after the music requirements.

For their part, Harry and Daphne both decided to keep their knowledge of other dances a secret. If the opportunity presented itself on the night for other forms of dancing, then they would hit the floor and dance that form. A plain old waltz was nice for a while, but it would quickly get boring.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The other events of note were that Professor Snape had, again, backed off on his sneering and taunting of Harry. He even - though, reluctantly - handed Harry points in Potions. Harry was always only amused by the Professor's actions; especially, as the Potions Master never failed to take notes of Harry's minor modifications of the order in which to prepare said potions when a clear improvement was made.

The second other events of note related to Professor Moody. After Harry managed to get himself out of the Tri-Wizard Tournament the Professor had taken to watching Harry very carefully. On a couple of occasions he had to use his invisibility cloak and make judicious use of the secret passages within the castle to avoid the man to get to the Come and Go Room.

It was on one of his jaunts where the Professor continually seemed to be able track him that led Harry to find out how to test for tracking charms. In the library, he discovered a book that showed how to check for them. It wasn't one type of spell, either. It seemed various spells were required to show up any and all.

It was while in the library, he tested everything he had on him, and even himself. He found five different ones.

There was one on the outside of his cloak, two on his bookbag, and two on his shoes. The one on his cloak and one each on his bookbag and shoes all seemed to have been done by the same person. The other person was responsible for the other two.

It took him a while to get the incantations right, but he was finally able to remove all five. Or, rather, he was able to transfer them. The two done by the second person, he transferred to Ron Weasley. The person responsible for the other three had his, or her, tracking charms moved to Draco Malfoy.

The other thing he learned went hand in glove with testing for and moving tracking charms; actually casting them, yourself. And, of course, he was a quick study. Once the tracking charms had been moved he taught the others how to cast them. And allowed Daphne to cast a couple of them on him. One was on his personal self, while other went on his wand.

"Why my wand?" he asked her.

"Because you always have your wand with you," she smiled back. "Don't tell me you didn't understand that."

Sheepishly, he smiled and said, "It actually hadn't occurred to me."

After that, Professor Moody seemed to continually try and follow Mister Weasley the youngest about the place. And was confused whenever he came across Ron and not Harry. That, at least, gave Harry the identity of one of his taggers. But, it didn't explain why.

After that, each time he left the DADA class he would check for new tracking charms. Each time he found one he'd move it to another student. It would be a different student each time.

Harry had also tested to see if he could cast, or transfer to, a tracking charm on a ghost. He could not. However, he was once able to successfully transfer the charm to Peeves, the poltergeist. He also told Peeves what he had done and why. Peeves thought it hilarious and led the Professor on a merry chase throughout the castle for about four days.

Harry gave as good as he got. Now that he knew of the tracking charms - which were first invented to keep tabs on small children with a sense of adventure and wanderlust - Harry had taken to casting similar charms on Professor Moody. He'd cast them on the man's wooden leg, on his wand, on his cane, on his great coat, and once even on his magical eye. The last one gave the Eight no end of amusement.

By then, Harry thought both knew the other knew what they were doing. However, neither seemed to be inclined to stop. Though he didn't know why Moody seemed hell bent on continuing their little game, Harry was having far too much fun to end it. Many late afternoons were spent updating the group on to whom he'd transferred the latest tracking charms. It was the twins who'd suggested Peeves.

Unknown to Harry, though, Moody had no idea it was Harry and his friends who were the ones transferring his trackers, or putting them on him. He was positive it was a member of staff. After all, such charms were not taught to children. They were for adults to cast on children; not the other way around.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next afternoon, Harry was greeted by a clearly excited Hermione, Neville and Tracey. "What's going on?" he asked.

The three looked at one another for a few moments before Tracey said, "Professor Moody was arrested, today," she replied. "Only, it wasn't Professor Moody."

"Oh?" asked Harry, a little dumbfounded.

"Nope," she replied with a huge grin. "Rumour has it, it was some Death Eater using Polyjuice to make himself look like Moody. And that Moody was trapped inside a trunk in his office. He's - the real Moody, that is - is supposed to be up in the Infirmary, right now."

Harry was shocked.

Hermione said, "Apparently, Dumbledore finally figured it out. He compared the writing style of the hidden school on the bottom of the parchment that had your name on it, with the writing style of the staff. It matched Fake-Professor Moody's handwriting off a document the Professor - fake Professor - had to submit relating to the end of term progress reports of the students.

"He and Professor McGonagall had a fight with him this afternoon before Professor Dumbledore subdued him and tied him up. The aurors came by later and took away the Polyjuiced man once the potion wore off."

"Any idea who it really was, then?" asked Harry.

"None," said Tracey. "But, we'll learn, soon enough, through the Daily Prophet when the information is released."

Harry snorted and said, "The Prophet could tell me it was the Minister himself and I wouldn't believe them."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the Saturday before Christmas - the day after the last day of school term and a special Hogsmeade visit day - Harry had to attend his first, proper, Wizengamot session. The previous three weeks had been horrendous, politically speaking.

The battle for the next Minister for Magic eventually cut down to three 'finalists'. They were Rufus Scrimgeour, the current Head of the Auror Office under Aunt Amelia; Lord Tiberius Ogden; and Dirk Creswell, Head of the Goblin Liaison Office.

When Harry asked his ex-Guardians who was the best choice his choice wasn't made easier when they hemmed and hawed a fair bit before finally telling him to go with his gut feelings on the matter.

Just before they entered the Chamber from the assembly room in the Wizengamot's private chambers, Scrimgeour approached him and tried to secure his vote. Which Harry didn't really mind as it was expected at that time. However, when Scrimgeour tried to impress on Harry that, as the Boy-Who-Lived, he should use his fame to support him, Harry snapped back at the man.

In a carrying voice, he said, "Mister Scrimgeour, you've just lost my support. While _you_ may think it's alright to use me and my unwanted fame to your own advantage; I assure you, Sir, _I_ most certainly do _not_! Anyone who would _stoop_ to such tactics, in my opinion, would make a _poor_ choice for Minister." And stormed off.

Cygnus and Sirius grabbed him and took him to one side.

"Well, _that's_ going to put the kneazle in with the hens," said Cygnus with a chuckle. "Right up until you just shot him down, it looked like Scrimgeour had it in the bag."

Harry frowned and crossed his arms across his chest. "Good. Hopefully, who ever _does_ actually get the job, will know not to try and use me like that."

Once they were all called in and were seated, Chief Witch Marchbanks had called them to order, the session was commenced, and the first item of business was the election for the new Minister. Dirk Creswell, the rank outsider, won it in a shock victory.

The man, shocked himself, stood in his place, thanked those who voted for him, and said he didn't even have a speech prepared as he believed he wasn't going to win. He gave a few words about doing the best he could do in the role, promised to ensure those caught in the incidences of bribery would be both fairly treated and honestly tried, and sat down again.

The rest of the session went on with normal Wizengamot business. Then, on it's conclusion, Madam Marchbanks wished everyone a happy Yule season and would see them all again on the third Saturday in January for the first session of the 1995 year.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	68. Yule Tango

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Eight - Yule Tango**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The morning the article about Barty Crouch Junior being found out at Hogwarts had come out, Pettigrew made sure he handed the paper to his master and hightailed it out of the room. Informing his master, before he could open the paper, he had to go to Knockturn Alley for potion supplies.

Pettigrew stayed away for most of the day so, when he finally _did_ return to Riddle Manor, Voldemort had already burned off his anger. As soon as he was back, Pettigrew carried in to his master's room more of the snake venom potion, as he knew his master would need it.

He breathed a silent sigh of relief when baby-Riddle merely glowered at him before drinking the potion.

Once he had imbibed of the whole goblet, baby-Riddle turned to him and said, "So, young Barty was caught. That means we're going to need another to go in and capture the boy in June."

"Yes, master," said Pettigrew. "Have you determined which of your servants you would have me contact on your behalf?"

"It'll need to be Gibbon or Avery. I'd have preferred MacNair, but he would be missed in his position within the Ministry," replied baby-Riddle.

"Would you prefer me to investigate all three to see which would be the best choice, My Lord?" asked Pettigrew. "After all, now that you only want to capture the Potter brat on the 24th of June, they only need to be at Hogwarts that day. If they go in too early, they run the risk of capture."

"Hmm," mused baby-Riddle. "You make an excellent case, Wormtail. It seems the past thirteen years have granted you wisdom."

Pettigrew felt himself swell with pride inside. He was, more and more, filling the role of trusted lieutenant to his master. The position previously held by Malfoy and the Lestrange bitch.

"Very well," said baby-Riddle. "Go investigate the three. Find out which one is best suited and can still be trusted. Then, report back to me. _But_, you are to continue to return each day to supply me with my potion."

"Yes, master," Pettigrew breathed in relief. "I shall leave at once." He scurried from the room.

His plan to supplant Malfoy and Lestrange as his master's most trusted lieutenant moved yet another step closer.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

In the final week leading up to Christmas, many owls flew back and forth from the castle to the various homes and other places of the students and staff. Hedwig was quite ruffled but very happy with all the work Harry had his familiar doing, especially during the last few days before Christmas.

On Christmas day, Harry awoke early to find a pile of gifts on the foot of his bed in the Ravenclaw tower. And so did his dorm mates. They spent quite a bit of time going through them until Harry felt he had to quickly ready himself for breakfast and to meet Daphne and the others.

Walking in to the Great Hall to a late breakfast he spied his friends all sitting at the Slytherin table and chatting amiably. There was Christmas wrapping strewn everywhere.

Daphne stood to meet him as he walked over, giving him a very nice kiss and a greeting of, "Merry Christmas, Harry."

"Merry Christmas, my love," he softly replied.

Taking seat he handed Daphne his gift to her, and she handed her gift to him back. He discovered he'd received a lovely set of silver cufflinks with the Potter crest embossed on them.

She received from him a lovely set of necklace and earrings that would go well with her outfit that night. As per tradition, she only gave him a swatch of the colours she'd be wearing so that he could match her with the accessories for his outfit. The material was a rich forest green, so he bought the jewellery with flawless eye clean chrome diopside gemstones of a rich forest green to match. She loved them.

As the day passed into afternoon, most of the girls of fourth year and up - and some third years - disappeared into their dorms. For the boys, they spent the time wondering just how nice the girls were going to look.

Because the Ball was not due to start until 8.00pm, Harry had his house elves take the ladies some dry snack food late afternoon. He knew that they'd be uncomfortably hungry by the time the evening meal was served if he did not.

The youngsters who were not going to the Ball sat for their evening meal at 5.30pm, so that they'd be done in time for the Great Hall to be reconfigured for the Ball.

Knowing they had to be in the Great Hall waiting for the grand entrance of the three champions by 7.45pm, Harry said he'd be waiting outside the Slytherin common room at 7.30pm. However, Daphne told him he could wait in the Entrance Hall, when Harry replied he'd escort her and Tracey from down in the dungeons.

"Tracey has a date, Harry," smiled Daphne, when he'd suggested it.

"Oh?" he asked. "May I know who?"

"Blaise Zabini," she replied. "And, before you ask, he'll also be escorting _me_ to _you_."

Surprised, Harry apologised but said, "Then I shall await you on the bottom of the stairs that lead down from the Entrance Hall. I have a feeling the Entrance Hall will become _way_ too crowded with everyone else having the same idea."

She was happy with that arrangement.

So, at 7.45pm, Harry was waiting anxiously one floor down from the Entrance Hall. He even had the perfect little corsage in his slightly sweaty hands to pin to Daphne's robes when she arrived.

And, when she did on the off arm of Blaise Zabini, his breath hitched in his throat.

A group of Slytherins came up the steps from their dungeon common room. Malfoy was in front; he was wearing dress robes of black velvet with a high collar; which, in Harry's opinion, made him look like a vicar. Pansy Parkinson in very frilly robes of pale pink was clutching Malfoy's arm. Crabbe and Goyle were both wearing green; they resembled moss-coloured boulders, and neither of them, Harry was pleased to see, had managed to find a partner.

Walking behind them and a little back, Blaise had Tracey on his right and Daphne on his left. Both girls were dressed in similar colours, but Harry's eyes were firmly fixed on the form of his betrothed.

Her dress was off her right shoulder and form fitting through the bust down to the hips, where they then spread into loose pleats to the ankle. He décolletage in a v-cut displayed the tops of her breasts and a little of the treasures within. It immediately made Harry think of the times Daphne had allowed him to play with 'the girls'; something she'd been letting him do more often and more freely, of late.

Her hair was done in a loose ringlet style pinned so it fell over her right, bare, shoulder; and had tiny little silver ornaments adorning it. They matched well with her blonde hair.

Knowing what sort of effect she had on him, Daphne blushed and smiled prettily as Blaise led her over to him.

"Lord Potter," spoke, the taller Italian boy, standing proudly at his full height, "I present to you, your betrothed, Lady Daphne, safe and well." As Daphne moved from Blaise's arm to Harry's.

"Mister Zabini," replied Harry. "I thank you for escorting my lovely Daphne safe and sound to my side." And dipped in a slight bow, which the Italian boy returned with a smile.

Then, together, the four of them ascended the last flight of stairs to the Entrance Hall.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As expected the Entrance Hall was packed with students, all milling around waiting for eight o'clock, when the doors to the Great Hall would be thrown open. Those people who were meeting partners from different Houses were edging through the crowd trying to find one another.

Susan was already on the arm of fellow Hufflepuff Fourth Year, Wayne Hopkins; who struggled to keep his eyes off her chest. She was wearing lovely pale yellow dress robes that went very well with her auburn hair and fair skin. She was also showing off her not so modest bust with a plunged neckline showing she was _all_ woman. Mister Hopkins was struggling to keep his eyes from staring at her boobs.

Hannah was on the arm of Fifth Year Ravenclaw Warren Chambers. Both looked very pleased. Unsurprisingly to Harry, Hannah was wearing a silky pink number that also went well with her very pale blonde hair. Chambers was proudly wearing a matching pink tie, cummerbund and pocket-filler on his deep black robes.

Neville had awaited Luna outside the Ravenclaw tower entrance and was just coming down the stairs with the girl on his arm.

Like Harry, Neville was wearing formal pureblood robes with his House crest on his breast. As Luna's robes were of silver with royal blue trim, Neville's robes were of a royal blue with silver trim. With Daphne's robes of a deep forest green with silver and black highlights, Harry's robes were black with a hint of dark forest green underneath. His accessories were in silver - including his new cufflinks.

The oak front doors opened, and everyone turned to look as the Durmstrang students entered with Professor Karkaroff. Over their heads he saw that an area of lawn right in front of the castle had been transformed into a sort of grotto full of fairy lights - meaning hundreds of actual living fairies were sitting in the rosebushes that had been conjured there, and fluttering over the statues of what seemed to be Father Christmas and his reindeer.

Krum was at the front of the party, accompanied by a pretty girl in blue robes. It was Hermione, and she was gorgeous. Her hair was twisted up into an elegant knot at the back of her head. She was wearing robes made of a floaty, periwinkle-blue material, and she was holding herself differently, somehow - or maybe it was merely the absence of the twenty or so books she usually had slung over her back. She was also smiling - though, rather nervously.

"Hi, guys!" she said to them

Harry noticed some of the other girls were gazing at Hermione in unflattering disbelief. They weren't the only ones either; when the doors to the Great Hall opened, Krum's fan club from the library stalked past, throwing Hermione looks of deepest loathing. Pansy Parkinson gaped at her as she walked by with Malfoy, and even he didn't seem to be able to find an insult to throw at her. Harry noticed that Ron Weasley walked right past her without looking other than a flicker of a scowl.

As Harry escorted Daphne inside, he could see that the walls of the Great Hall had all been covered in sparkling silver frost, with hundreds of garlands of mistletoe and ivy crossing the starry black ceiling. The House tables had vanished; instead, there were about a hundred smaller, lantern-lit ones, each seating about a dozen people.

Harry and Daphne sat with Blaise and Tracey, and Neville and Luna. Susan and Hannah were sitting at a nearby table with their dates and another couple from Gryffindor - fellow Fourth Years Seamus Finnegan and Fay Dunbar.

Once everyone other than the champions and their dates was inside and seated, the doors reopened with Professor McGonagall leading them into the Hall.

While waiting for the champions to walk the length of the Hall and take seat at the top table, Harry was looking around. He saw that Ron Weasley was watching Hermione pass with narrowed eyes. And his date, Padma Patil, was looking sulky.

Turning to Daphne, he whispered, "Well, well - Ron Weasley has the hots for Hermione."

Looking surprised, Daphne said, "You didn't know?"

Frowning, Harry replied, "No, she did not deign to tell me."

Daphne giggled a little and kissed him on the cheek. "While you're her avowed protector, you don't need to play 'big brother' here. Krum is not looking for anything from Hermione other than as a shield to protect him from all the fan girls. And Hermione was happy to take that role."

Harry grunted in acknowledgement, but was going to be keeping an eye on her and the other girls, anyway.

Dumbledore smiled happily as the champions approached the top table, but Karkaroff wore an expression remarkably like young Mister Weasley's as he watched Krum and Hermione draw nearer. Ludo Bagman, tonight in robes of bright purple with large yellow stars, was clapping as enthusiastically as any of the students; and Madame Maxime, who had changed her usual uniform of black satin for a flowing gown of lavender silk, was applauding them politely. But Mr. Crouch, Harry realized, was not there. He must still be in hospital, or still too ill to attend. The fifth seat at the table was occupied by Percy Weasley.

When the champions and their partners reached the table, Percy drew out the empty chair beside him, and appeared to be staring pointedly at Delacour. She took the hint and sat down next to Percy, who was wearing brand-new, navy-blue dress robes and an expression of such smugness that Harry thought it ought to be fined.

Turning back to his own table of friends and Blaise, Harry noticed there was no food as yet on the glittering golden plates, but small menus were lying in front of each of them. Harry picked his up uncertainly and looked around - there were no waiters.

Daphne, however, looked carefully down at her own menu, then said very clearly to her plate, "Veal roast!" And a roast dinner of veal appeared.

Getting the idea, the rest of the table placed their orders with their plates, too. Harry glanced up at Hermione to see how she felt about this new and more complicated method of dining; but, she was deep in talk with Krum and hardly seemed to notice what she was eating.

Looking over at Susan and Hannah, he saw both girls were happily chatting with the others at their table.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When all the food had been consumed, Dumbledore stood up and asked the students to do the same. Then, with a wave of his wand, all the tables zoomed back along the walls leaving the floor clear. He then he conjured a raised platform into existence along the right wall. A set of drums, several guitars, a lute, a cello, and some bagpipes were set upon it.

The 'Weird Sisters' now trooped up onto the stage to wildly enthusiastic applause. They were all extremely hairy and dressed in black robes that had been artfully ripped and torn. They picked up their instruments; and Harry, who had been so interested in watching them that he had almost forgotten what was coming, suddenly realized that the lanterns on all the other tables had gone out, and that the champions and their partners were standing up and moving towards the dance floor.

The Weird Sisters struck up a slow, mournful tune as the champions walked onto the brightly lit dance floor with their dates, Hermione turned to face Krum. They moved into a dance position and began to dance. Krum was a little wooden, and it appeared Hermione was calmly talking to him as they danced, but after a few awkward moments he was leading her around the floor.

Once they were clearly all dancing, Harry saw other couples begin to rise and join them.

With a smile, he turned to Daphne, and asked, "Shall we, my Lady?"

She smiled in response and accepted his hand as he assisted her to her feet and led her out onto the floor. Neville and Luna were dancing nearby - he could see her wincing frequently as Neville trod on her feet - and Dumbledore was waltzing with Madame Maxime. He was so dwarfed by her that the top of his pointed hat barely tickled her chin; however, she moved very gracefully for a woman so large.

As the night progressed, Harry enjoyed himself. However, it came to a sudden halt when Daphne tapped him on his arm and pointed towards where Hermione was sitting alone at the head table. Ron Weasley seemed to be having heated words with her, as his face was quite flushed, while his date, Padma Patil, stood nervously by.

Harry quickly led Daphne around the table coming up behind young Mister Weasley. They had clearly arrived in the middle of a heated discussion.

"You've got a funny way of showing it," Weasley sneered at Hermione.

"This whole tournament's supposed to be about getting to know foreign wizards and making friends with them!" said Hermione hotly.

"No it isn't!" shouted Ron. "It's about winning!"

People were starting to stare at them.

"Mister Weasley," said Harry quietly, "Perhaps I have not impressed upon you..."

But Weasley ignored Harry too.

"Why don't you go and find Vicky. He'll be wondering where you are," said Weasley.

"Don't call him Vicky!" Hermione jumped to her feet and stormed off across the dance floor, disappearing into the crowd. Weasley watched her go with a mixture of anger and satisfaction on his face.

"Are you going to ask me to dance at all?" Padma asked him.

"No," said Ron, still glaring after Hermione.

"Fine," snapped Padma, and she got up and went to join Parvati and a Beauxbatons boy, who conjured up one of his friends to join them so fast that Harry could have sworn he had zoomed him there by a Summoning Charm.

"Vare is Herm-own-ninny?" said a voice. Krum had just arrived at their table clutching two butterbeers.

"No idea," said Weasley mulishly, looking up at him. "Lost her, have you?"

Krum was looking surly again.

"Mister Weasley!" growled Harry.

Weasley finally spun about to find himself face-to-face with a very angry Harry. He then took a couple of steps back and his face went from flushed to white in a matter of moments.

Harry then turned to Krum and said, "Mister Krum. This loud mouthed idiot..." he indicated Weasley, "... just insulted your date. She fled onto the dance floor and beyond."

"Veil, if you see her, tell her I haff drinks," he said, about to slouch off.

Harry grabbed him on the arm to stop him and said, "Go find her. She'll likely need comforting."

Krum gave a firm nod and went in search of Hermione.

"Made friends with Viktor Krum, have you, Ron?"

Percy had bustled over, rubbing his hands together and looking extremely pompous. "Excellent! That's the whole point, you know - international magical cooperation!"

Harry turned to Percy and said, "Other Mister Weasley, your idiot _baby_ brother just insulted both Mister Krum and his date - A date who happens to fall under the protection of House Potter. Get him the _hell_ out of here or, come tomorrow, you'll be searching the grounds for his body. Am I clear?"

Both Weasleys blanched.

Harry then stepped into the younger Weasley's comfort zone and quietly snarled, "I don't care how much wood you're carrying for Hermione. If you _ever_ hurt her like that again - I. Will. _End_. You!"

Percy quickly stepped forward, grabbed his brother by the arm and dragged him out of the Hall.

Daphne stepped forward and took Harry's elbow. "That makes me so _hot_ when you do things like that," she purred.

Harry blushed to the roots in response and smiled back. "What say we take a walk outside for a few minutes? I think we can both cool off for a bit."

Harry and Daphne took a trip around the temporary gardens outside before returning inside. The chilled air helped cool them both down. However, almost as if the Weird Sisters were waiting for their return, they announced a Tango for those feeling a bit more romantic. Harry and Daphne knew the piece - _La Cumparsita_. It was probably the most common piece of music for the tango. But also sounded quite - odd - played on bagpipes.

Taking the middle of the floor, Harry and Daphne very quickly fell into the rhythm of the music. In less than five steps, they were lost to it. Nothing else mattered but they, and the music. They had no idea those around them began to back away and allow them room.

They danced. And, as they danced, the Weird Sisters played with them. The tempo deepened and the dance became more sensual. Harry and Daphne became 'Haphne'; moving as one with the music.

Finally, as the music wound down, they managed to come back to themselves. And, as the final notes played, they ended in a deep bow with Daphne being held off the floor only by Harry's arm around her waist.

The music finally fell silent. The two held their position for a few moments longer, breathing heavily at the sheer level of exertion they both put into the dance. Then Harry pulled his betrothed back onto her feet; and the Hall erupted in applause.

When they looked around they could see their friends looking shocked at what they'd just done. Even Malfoy appeared stunned by their display.

A little embarrassed at everyone staring at them and applauding, Harry led Daphne off the floor back to their friends, with a few nods in acknowledgement to those applauding them.

Thankfully, the Weird Sisters began a new piece - a slow waltz. And couples retook the floor.

When the Weird Sisters finished playing at midnight, everyone gave them a last, loud round of applause and started to wend their way into the Entrance Hall. Many people were expressing the wish that the ball could have gone on longer, but Harry was perfectly happy to be going to bed; as far as he was concerned, the evening had been fun but he was exhausted.

Out in the Entrance Hall, Harry and Daphne saw Hermione saying good night to Krum before he went back to the Durmstrang ship. She gave Weasley, who was standing off to one side, a very cold look and swept past him and up the marble staircase without speaking.

Weasley turned red and appeared about to follow her when he saw Harry glaring at him. The boy blanched again and ducked out the main doors onto the grounds.

"Do you think he'll ever learn?" asked Daphne.

Harry sighed and replied, "How much does Hermione care for him?"

"He - intrigues - her," she replied. "I don't know much else other than that."

"She could do better," he softly said.

"Yes, but it's her choice," she said. "Let her work it out."

Harry nodded and turned away from the doors back to his love. "I should escort you back to your common room," he sighed.

She nodded and said, "That would probably be best."

They headed slowly down the stairs towards the dungeons.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Everybody rose late on Boxing Day. The Great Hall was much quieter than it had been lately, with many yawns punctuating the lazy conversations.

Neville came down without Hermione in tow and Harry asked if she wasn't feeling well.

Neville shook his head and replied, "No. She and Ron had another blazing row in the common room, last night, after the Ball. I think she didn't want to come down until she was sure the redheaded idiot wouldn't be in the common room when she came down."

Harry groaned and bounced his forehead off the tabletop in front of him.

"I'm going to kill him," growled Harry. "So help me God; I'm going to _kill_ him."

"Well, you'll have to go to the infirmary to do him in, then," said Neville with a bit of a grin. "It seems someone hit him with a Tripping Jinx and a Knockback Jinx as he was walking up the stairs from the common room to the dorms, last night. He took a big tumble back down the stairs and broke a few bones."

Harry looked up with a grin of his own and said, "Awww! Did he have a boo boo?"

Neville just snickered and said, "And, someone apparently sent him a note using one of the school owls. It warned him that next time it might be either his neck or his skull that gets broken should he _ever_ raise his voice to Hermione again."

Harry looked at Neville in gratitude. He said, "It's a pity he had his little accident. But, one can only hope he actually learns to - watch where he puts his feet - in future."

It was time now to think of the homework they had neglected during the first week of the holidays. Everybody seemed to be feeling rather flat now that Christmas and the Yule Ball was over.

After breakfast, when Hermione still hadn't come down, Harry had Neville take him up to the Gryffindor entrance. Neville went in and, finding a girl, had her go and get Hermione. When she warily came down and was suitably dressed, Neville told her that Ron Weasley had an accident the previous night and was in the infirmary, and would probably be for at least a couple of days.

With an almost visible sigh of relief, Hermione left the Gryffindor common room to almost immediately run into Harry. She looked a little ashamed.

Harry stepped forward and gave her a hug, and said, "You are to tell me when something like this happens. Haven't I made it clear to you before?"

Hermione stepped back and looked at her shoes as she muttered, "I don't want you to kill him."

"Then, I won't," said Harry. "However, I am your Protector, Heiress Apparent Hermione Jean Granger of the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger. And, _you_ need to understand that the Ancient Houses take care of their own. You are one of us. If _I_ don't act; _they_ will find me negligent, and take their _own_ action."

Looking to Neville, he asked, "Heir Apparent Longbottom, do I speak true?"

"You do, Lord Potter," he formally and firmly replied.

"Now," said Harry, turning back to Hermione. "You need to eat. Will you do Neville and me the honour of escorting you down to the kitchens so you may partake of sustenance?"

Hermione looked up and smiled, "That - sounds nice."

With Hermione linking arms with both of them, they left the sixth floor and went down to the kitchens so she could eat something.

As they were striding along, Harry said, "The way we're walking, I have this strong urge to break out into a song about yellow brick roads."

Hermione giggled and explained the reference to Neville.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a late breakfast in the kitchens, where Harry whined to the elves trying to get them to tell him what they had planned for lunch, the three made their way up to the seventh floor and in to the Come and Go Room.

There, they set to work on their homework. Hermione had a bit of dig at them all about not getting it done before Christmas. When Harry mentioned how most folks were concentrating on buying and owl delivering Christmas presents, and were making sure they had everything, clothing-wise, for the Yule Ball, she relented.

And even then, it was probably because Luna asked the girl if she would help her with an assignment. Harry smirked at that; as everyone knew Luna was one of the top students her year, and really didn't need the assistance.

While Hermione was busy working with Luna, Harry turned to Daphne and whispered to her, "I'll be back in a few minutes." She nodded in understanding as he rose and quickly and quietly left the room.

Entering the infirmary, Harry quickly looked around and didn't see Madam Pomfrey. He quickly walked up to the foot of Ron Weasley's bed and stood there with a smirk on his face. The red headed boy saw him coming and had shrunk down into his bedding.

Eventually, he asked, "What do you want, Potter?"

"I warned you, Mister Weasley," said Harry, allowing some of his magic to leak out making his green eyes glow a little. "I warned you what would happen if you upset Hermione again."

The red head winced and looked quite scared.

"And yet," Harry continued, "I find out that not three hours later, you were - yet again - upsetting her."

Weasley just crouched within his bedding and didn't say a word.

"You should know, by now, that I _always_ find out," said Harry. "You should think yourself very lucky that you were only forced to tumble down the steps of your own dormitory. You broke a few bones.

"It would actually be very easy to arrange a further little accident for you. One that causes you to die. No one will ever know you didn't die as a result of your own stupidity. However, you're also giving me more than enough cause to call you out. And, if I do that, you will die.

"Mummy will not be there to stop me. She couldn't, even if she was. Have I made myself perfectly clear to you, _this_ time, Mister Weasley?"

Weasley nodded and managed to squeak out a quiet, "Yes."

"Good," said Harry. "Try and be a gentleman, for once, in your misspent childhood. It will extend your life." Harry gave him another evil smirk and then quickly left the infirmary to return to the seventh floor.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On the first day of the return to classes, Harry was chatting with Tracey and Hannah when Malfoy approached.

Harry looked at the other kid and coolly asked, "Mister Malfoy. To what do I owe the displeasure?"

Malfoy smirked back at tossed a copy of the Daily Prophet onto the table before Harry. It was folded to show an article topped with a picture of Hagrid looking extremely shifty.

_DUMBLEDORE'S GIANT MISTAKE_

_Albus Dumbledore, eccentric Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, has never been afraid to make controversial staff appointments, writes __Rita Skeeter, Special Correspondent_.

_In September of this year, he hired Alastor "Mad-Eye" Moody, the notoriously jinx-happy ex-Auror, to teach Defence Against the Dark Arts, a decision that caused many raised eyebrows at the Ministry of Magic, given Moody's well-known habit of attacking anybody who makes a sudden movement in his presence. Mad-Eye Moody, however, looks responsible and kindly when set beside the part-human Dumbledore employs to teach Care of Magical Creatures._

_Rubeus Hagrid, who admits to being expelled from Hogwarts in his third year, has enjoyed the position of gamekeeper at the school ever since, a job secured for him by Dumbledore. Last year, however, Hagrid used his mysterious influence over the Headmaster to secure the additional post of Care of Magical Creatures teacher, over the heads of many better-qualified candidates._

_An alarmingly large and ferocious-looking man, Hagrid has been using his newfound authority to terrify the students in his care with a succession of horrific creatures. While Dumbledore turns a blind eye, Hagrid has maimed several pupils during a series of lessons that many admit to being "very frightening."_

_"I was attacked by a hippogriff, and my friend Vincent Crabbe got a bad bite off a flobberworm," says Draco Malfoy, a fourth-year student. "We all hate Hagrid, but we're just too scared to say anything."_

_Hagrid has no intention of ceasing his campaign of intimidation, however. In conversation with a Daily Prophet reporter last month, he admitted breeding creatures he has dubbed "Blast-Ended Skrewts," a highly dangerous crosses between manticores and firecrabs. The creation of new breeds of magical creature is, of course, an activity usually closely observed by the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. Hagrid, however, considers himself to be above such petty restrictions._

_"I was just having some fun," he says, before hastily changing the subject._

_As if this were not enough, the Daily Prophet has now unearthed evidence that Hagrid is not - as he has always pretended - a pure-blood wizard. He is not, in fact, even pure human. His mother, we can exclusively reveal, is none other than the giantess Fridwulfa, whose whereabouts are currently unknown._

_Bloodthirsty and brutal, the giants brought themselves to the point of extinction by warring amongst themselves during the last century. The handful that remained joined the ranks of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, and was responsible for some of the worst mass Muggle killings of his reign of terror._

_While many of the giants who served He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named were killed by Aurors working against the Dark Side, Fridwulfa was not among them. It is possible she escaped to one of the giant communities still existing in foreign mountain ranges. If his antics during Care of Magical Creatures lessons are any guide, however, Fridwulfa's son appears to have inherited her brutal nature._

_In a bizarre twist, Hagrid is reputed to have developed a close friendship with the boy who brought around You-Know-Who's fall from power - thereby driving Hagrid's own mother, like the rest of You-Know-Who's supporters, into hiding._

_Perhaps the boy is unaware of the unpleasant truth about his large friend - but Albus Dumbledore surely has a duty to ensure that he, along with his fellow students, is warned about the dangers of associating with part-giants._

After Harry finished reading it, he looked up at Malfoy - who was still standing there with a quizzical expression on his face - and asked, "Yeah, and? Besides the fact flobberworms have no teeth and, therefore, cannot bite anyone; what does this have to do with me?"

"It means your friend's going to be fired!" smirked Malfoy.

"Friend?" asked Harry, clearly puzzled. Turning to the others, he asked, "Do any of you have jobs I'm unaware of that you could be fired from?"

Greeted with seven head shakes, Harry turned back to Malfoy and said, "It appears your information is faulty, Mister Malfoy. None of my friends have jobs they can be fired from. Sorry."

Pinking a bit, Malfoy glared back and said, "I meant that oaf, Hagrid."

"Hagrid's not my friend, Malfoy," said Harry, showing he was still confused. "I have no idea why you think he is."

"You fought to have him freed from Azkaban in second year, didn't you?" growled the blond ferret.

"Well, yeah!" snorted Harry. "That's because he was an innocent man and it was the right thing to do. It does not then presuppose he's my friend. Why would you think that?"

Malfoy just scowled back a few moments before he simply stormed off.

Harry chuckled and said, "He's just too easy; it's almost cruel."

"But this is still terrible, Harry," said Hermione, almost in tears after reading the article. "Hagrid's a great bloke. He shouldn't be treated this way."

"He may be," replied Harry. "But he's done some wrong things. Those Blast-Ended Skrewts are just yet another example he's unknowingly broken the law. And it really was foolish of him to have those third years deal with the hippogriff, Buckbeak; as I mentioned at the time."

"I have no doubt Dumbledore will keep Hagrid on in his old job as Groundskeeper and Keeper of the Keys, Hermione," said Daphne. "After all, the position has remained vacant since Hagrid moved from it to COMC Professor."

That cheered Hermione up a fair bit. "But all that stuff about his using some 'mysterious influence' on the Headmaster, or that he used the creatures to maim students, is all lies."

"That's the Daily Prophet, Hermione, as you well know," said Neville. "Skeeter is just a muck raker; and, when she's unable to rake enough muck, she makes it up."

Hermione sighed and rested her forehead of the table before herself. "It's just so wrong for them to write stuff like that."

"Agreed," said Harry. "But the only way to get them to stop is..."

Harry suddenly stopped speaking. The others looked at him, wondering what was going on, before he then looked at the others. "I think I might enjoy owning my own newspaper. I don't know why I hadn't thought of this before."

"Harry?" asked Daphne. "What's going on in that perfect little mind of yours?"

Harry turned and grinned at her, "I feel like buying out the rest of the public shares in the Daily Prophet. If I can't get them to write the actual truth about me and my friends simply by threatening them; maybe I can do it as the dominant owner. I already own twenty-five percent of it. How hard would it be to buy another twenty-_six_ percent of it?"

"To paraquote a famous muggle quote," smiled Hermione. "If you can't beat them, buy them out."

Harry turned to Daphne and asked, "Are you alright with me owning a newspaper, love?"

"Of course," she grinned. "And thank you for asking me my opinion, even though you didn't have to."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During lunch, Harry wrote a letter to Bloodfang asking him to forward to Harry a complete breakdown of the share-ownership of the Daily Prophet. He felt that, once he had that, he would then use either the goblins or Dewey to seek the purchase of more shares, or a combination of the two.

Then, once he had the majority ownership in his grasp, he and the sleazy Mister Cuffe would be having words about his integrity. If necessary, Harry was well prepared to fire the man and put in place an editor that actually showed backbone. He also had no qualms about poaching an editor from an overseas, English speaking, newspaper.

While writing, Harry looked at the others and asked, "Can you folks check with your own family's holdings and see if you own a part of the Daily Prophet? I'd rather not have the goblins or Dewey trying to buy shares you folks own."

The others said they would. And, depending on how much they owned, would depend on how much Harry actually had to buy.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	69. New Wand

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Sixty Nine - New Wand**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning in the Daily Prophet, it was reported that Cornelius Fudge, the most recent ex-Minister, had been found dead in his home where he was under house arrest. The death had actually happened some time ago, but was not released early because of the sensitivity of the family who asked for it to remain silent during the Yule holiday season.

Further, the case against those named in Fudge's Bribe Book collapsed with the death of the man. Harry was angry about it when he realised what had happened.

Someone, likely Malfoy, had Fudge 'snuffed'. Without Fudge, it was claimed the names in the book were naught but lies and were, in fact, code names of the real people responsible. Except for one - Dolores Umbridge.

The silly woman had 'coughed'; claiming she not only accepted bribes, but also used blackmail to gain even further coin. However, none of the names she mentioned was Malfoy. They knew Malfoy was likely one of those, but the woman was under a magical vow not to divulge the identity, and they couldn't get it out of her.

Harry suspected that, if she did actually have any dealings with the git and hadn't given the vow, she would've _also_ found herself bereft of her life.

Harry fumed about it in the Come and Go Room by taking his frustrations out on the target dummies. The others knew to leave him be until he exhausted himself. Even then, Daphne was always the one to offer him sports drinks and sympathy.

Once he'd calmed down and taken seat in his usual spot in the circle of couches, Harry turned to Susan and asked, "Are you allowed to tell us when this happened, Suze?"

"I can, now," she replied. "It was just before Christmas. Someone, who was keyed into the wards, simply walked right in and used a Killing Curse on him very late one night."

"Malfoy," sighed Harry.

"That's who Aunt Amelia thinks it was, too," she replied. "However, they can't prove it. Fudge's wards did not have a record keeping feature. Aunt Amelia believes that's because Fudge had dealings with a lot of unsavoury types and he'd invite them to his home. So, he didn't want them recorded as being there.

"She went to Fudge's brother to see if he'd let her take a look at the ward book to the Fudge home, but even his brother could not access it. Everything they tried led to a dead end in trying to find evidence against the killer, to no avail."

"Damn it, damn it, _damn_ it!" growled Harry.

"This happens with all too much regularity, Harry," said Susan. "There's so much corruption in the Ministry that Aunt Amelia seems to spend most of her time trying to stop things like evidence disappearing, and witnesses vanishing."

"Look at what happened to all those names Pettigrew gave as being Death Eaters," said Daphne. "Most simply claimed they'd already been exonerated of any wrongdoing due to being Imperioused. And, to try them a second time amounted to double jeopardy.

"It was only the unknown ones they were able to successfully try and incarcerate. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, and their ilk all walked because they'd already been found innocent."

Harry just sighed in response and leaned back on the couch. Daphne snuggled up to him in comfort.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Just before the restart of full time studies, the twins seemed to be strengthening their inner resolve. Finally, on the last Saturday, they approached Harry and quietly handed him a folio.

Harry accepted it with a frown, wondering what they were up to. When he looked at the cover, he understood. The twins had finally finished their business proposal and were submitting it, as promised.

Harry quickly flicked through it and saw just how detailed it was. He looked up at their worried faces and said, "Gentlemen. Well done. Give me a chance to go over this with Daphne and I'll let you know as soon as I can, alright?"

The twins nodded back and quickly headed over to the potion station, casting furtive glances back.

Harry grinned, sat back, and began to read.

After about fifteen minutes he was joined by Daphne, who came and sat down beside him.

"What in Merlin's name have you there, sweetheart?" she asked.

"The twins have submitted their business proposal," he replied. Then handed her what he'd already read. Before him he'd placed parchment and fountain pen and was taking notes of what to ask the twins. However, he was also finding himself crossing out questions as they were answered later in the proposal.

An hour later and he'd finished. Daphne had quickly caught him up and was reading the last few pages over his shoulder.

When she'd finished, he softly asked her, "What did you think?"

"It was - without a doubt - bloody brilliant!" she honestly replied. "Their talents in business documentation are on a par with the professionals. Merlin, the professionals should go to _them_ to learn something."

"Besides, the facts and figures - and that the information they've provided is beyond what I asked for," said Harry. "This shows me they're dedicated to the work. _And_, they won't have a problem doing the paperwork associated with running their own business."

"Definitely not," she said.

"Your recommendation?" he asked.

"Go for it," she firmly but quietly said. "Anyone who wouldn't, on reading that, obviously doesn't know business."

Harry smiled and looked up at the twins. "Oh, _bo-oys_!" he called. "Come take a seat."

The twins just glanced at each other before hurrying over to sit opposite. They were, of course, understandably nervous.

"You two," he said. "Have - in a nutshell - _astounded_ us. I expected to receive a proposal I would need to edit and provide advice on how to improve. I expected a proposal I'd have to return to you so you could head off and gather more information.

"This, however," he said, holding up the reassembled document, "requires none of that. It is a complete and very professional job."

The twins looked at each other and grinned before turning back.

"However," said Harry, enjoying watching their faces fall and trying to hide it, "Your proposal states renting premises below Gringotts and then, once you've accumulated enough to move into better premises, you'd move above Gringotts. So, you clearly understand that the prime real estate is between Gringotts and Leaky Cauldron, rather than below. Cleverly, you also recognise that such a move carries one-off expenses in moving, together with a temporary drop in floor sales.

"But, you're not the only ones who've been doing your due diligence in planning for this. So have I. I, too, recognise that the prime location is between Gringotts and the Leaky Cauldron.

"Now, taking in to consideration you really need to complete your NEWTS before undertaking this venture - if only so that your mother doesn't kill all of us - I've been monitoring what premises will be available post June 1996. It just so happens I'm a silent partner in a business that is looking for larger premises, and has developed enough goodwill, now, that a move below Gringotts will not cause undue harm to the business.

"With that in mind, I've consulted with the proprietor and given him favourable rates and assistance in moving, so long as he makes his move occurs just before June 1996. Secondly, the place will not be rented by another business because I own it. So, it will be available to you.

"It is located directly across from Flourish & Blotts and sits between that magical instruments place and Florean's. It comes complete with a private apartment directly above the store with three large bedrooms."

The two boys looked a little nervous. But, Harry just grinned back.

"Because you've also handed over a very good proposal, and I believe you will be very successful in your enterprise, I'm giving you that store with its apartment to rent with the first six months of a minimum two year occupancy lease being rent free..."

The two boys leapt off their couch with a yell of celebration.

Daphne giggled at their antics.

Once they'd calmed down and sat back down again, Harry continued. "And, while your proposal calculated my financial input at 1,000₲, I'm increasing it to 1,250₲ to save you having to delay in purchasing a decent parliament of owls for your mail order business, and using second hand material for your shop fittings.

"Work like this," he said, tapping the proposal, "deserves a reward. So, do we have a deal?"

"Merlin!..."

"... _Yes!_" they cried.

Harry chuckled and said, "In that case, make those minor changes to your proposal, and I'll hand it over to my lawyer, Mister Skroohem, to write up the contract that reflects that; alright?"

Both boys nodded their heads so hard they reminded Harry of those bobble-headed dolls he'd seen on the dashboards of people's cars.

"Alright," said Harry. "Now neither of you can sign a contract until you're of age on 1st of April next year. So, we've got plenty of time to sort _that_ out. However, I have to go into London on the 23rd of this month for a Wizengamot session, so I'll go in early and talk to my Account Keeper, Bloodfang, and have a separate vault set up for you. In it I will deposit 1,100₲ and bring back with me the other 150₲.

"That way, you'll have money on hand you can use to purchase what you need to continue to develop your products while you're here, at Hogwarts. I trust you two enough that I do not believe it will be money wasted."

Both boys shook their heads with mile wide grins.

"In that case, gentlemen," said Harry, standing and offering his hand. "Let us shake on it."

The two boys stood and both gripped his hand, together, and shook.

With a grin, Harry offered them the proposal back to make the amendments. They accepted it and quickly headed over to one of the study carousels talking about where the changes needed to be made.

When Harry sat down again, Daphne chuckled and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. "You're a natural at this," she said.

"It's just common sense, really," said Harry with a shrug. "Not having to hold back on their expenditures for the first few months means they'll be able to grow the business that much faster. It's a win, for us, for very little extra upfront."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With the second term starting, the Eight returned to their full time studies. Though there was a great deal of work relating to the subjects, Harry found his two favourites to be Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, with Ancient Runes coming out on top.

They were now working on enchanting objects such as water faucets that weren't connected to plumbing having water pour out of them, and drains unconnected to pipes banishing the waste water away. He'd always wondered how the castle could have indoor plumbing on the level it did without it having to be completely stripped down and rebuilt.

The other thing he liked was the project he was working on. He was attempting to design a wand that could hold a magical charge, like a battery. And that it would recharge by drawing in ambient magic in a magic rich environment, such as Hogwarts. Others had attempted to design wands that could be used by squibs in the past; however, none of them knew of batteries, so none of them had the idea of the wand holding a magical charge.

Once he explained the concept to Daphne, with Hermione also explaining how a battery worked, she could see the utility of such a device; though, it was limited in scope.

"But a squib can't push with their magic," she said. "So, how will they be able to make it work?"

"Most squibs _do_ have magic, else they'd never be able to see the castle," he countered. "However, it's too - weak - for them to be able to get spells to work. What I'm trying to do is make a wand that will allow for the magic they _do_ have to be - amplified or boosted - using the charge already in the wand."

"The only person we can ask for help with this, here, is Mister Filch," said Daphne. "Do you think he would? He seems too - cranky - to me to want to help."

"I think he will if I pay him," said Harry.

So, during his spare time, Harry studied materials used to make wands. He went through all the various woods and cores normally used and could not come up with a suitable material that could hold a charge. It was Daphne who suggested incorporating a crystal into the grip of a wand, as crystals were well known to be able to hold magical charges. And the crystal would both act as the battery and amplifier of the weak magic.

Harry groaned and said, "Of _course_, they are. Why didn't _I_ think of that?"

Once he then had the concept of the wand it became much easier to discover what wood and cores would work well with a crystal 'battery'. He came up with an Australian wood called Karri. It was a hardwood and known as a tree with spiritual meanings to the local aboriginal populace.

For a core he went with Unicorn tail hair, as he could harvest it from the Forbidden Forest where it was often found caught on low bushes, and that unicorn hair was especially good for charms work. And for a crystal, he decided on Mexican fire opal, something about an inch in circumference at its widest point - as they were usually cut in an ovoid shape.

Once he had the list of 'ingredients' for his wand, he ordered the wood from a lumber importer, the crystals from the goblins and headed out into the Forbidden Forest one afternoon with his invisibility cloak and gathered the hairs he found.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The 16th of January marked a day for a visit to Hogsmeade. Well and truly wrapped up to ward off the cold, Harry and Daphne took the day as a 'couple' day. Tracey was also taking the day as a 'couple' day as her relationship with Blaise Zabini was working out for the pair of them.

The surprise was Neville asking Hannah out for a 'couple' day in the village. They wanted to see if they, too, could make a go of it. Luna was happy to stick with Susan and Hermione, and the three made a 'girls' day of it.

As they were heading for the main gates, Daphne pointed Harry to a sight on the Black Lake. They watched as Krum stripped down to a pair of swimming togs before diving into the lake.

"He's certifiable!" exclaimed Harry. "The temperature of the water would barely be above _freezing_. What is he, part Eskimo?"

Daphne laughed and said, "Maybe the witches of Beauxbatons have made the heart-throb International Quidditch star randy, and he's trying to cool off."

Harry just shook his head at the wonder of it, before turning his attention back to his love.

Passing through the main gates and reaching the borders of the village, Harry was still leery of going anywhere near Gladrags. He steered Daphne up into the hillside behind Hogsmeade looking for a place to look back across the village to the castle for the view. There, he found a cave with a cleared area in front of it that looked out across the village to the castle.

"This would be a great place for a picnic one Hogsmeade day when it isn't so cold," he said.

Daphne agreed. A plan was tentatively made for the May Hogsmeade day to organise a picnic at the spot. They'd have to think about whether or not to invite the others along.

Harry decided to collect up some firewood and stored it in the cave to dry out. They might not need it for their next weekend; but, so long as others didn't come up and take the wood, they'd have it for another time.

Daphne joined him in collecting the loose dead wood, even though most of the ground was covered in snow, and they collected a fair amount before they decided they'd collected enough.

Feeling a little tired, Harry conjured a thick, waterproof blanket for the pair of them to rest on, and placed it on the relatively clear floor just inside the mouth of the cave.

They started talking for a little while. Talking turned to kissing. Kissing became snogging. Snogging led to groping with wandering hands.

By the time they left the cave, Daphne had to reapply her light make-up, and Harry was sporting a huge grin and feeling a pleasant buzz. He had no idea girls could do that with their mouths. Or, that he could do that with his tongue.

Once Daphne had put her compact away, Harry captured her hand and raised it to his lips. "_You_ are amazing," he quietly said.

The two of them had just enough time to go through the village collecting extra supplies before Daphne dragged Harry into Gladrags. This time, he wasn't so uncomfortable when she led him into the ladies underwear section. He'd become - appreciative - of Daphne's choices in undergarments.

For a start, he was of the strong opinion front clasp bras were _far_ superior to clasps that connected in the middle of the back.

Daphne blushed, giggled and said, "You just like the 'easy access' method."

"Damn straight!" Harry replied firmly.

Moving in closer, knowing there might have been others in the shop that could have overheard, she whispered, "There will likely come a time, in the not too distant future, where my breasts will be too large to allow me to wear a bra that connects at the front. Big boobs run in my family. Then I'm going to be very limited in options."

Harry didn't know whether to be happy or appalled at that idea.

Their final stop was at the Three Broomsticks, where Harry led Daphne to a table so they could share a butterbeer or two.

However, they'd no sooner sat down when that dreadful woman, Rita Skeeter, approached them.

"Ah, Mister Potter - or Lord Pot..."

Harry was up out of the booth and had the woman by the throat before throwing her onto her back on the next - thankfully vacant - table.

"You stupid _bitch_!" he snarled at her, while keeping her pinned down. "_When_ will you get it through your naffing _head_ that you are _not_ allowed to approach me?"

The whole tavern went silent as they watched the tableau before them. Some were in shock; but they all had no intention of interfering. Harry was radiating magic enough to have loose napkins and the like swirling about.

Without even waiting for an answer, Harry stood back up, spun about and summoned his patronus. When it formed out of his wand it made a clatter upon the floor with its hooves. Mentally, he summoned it back for a message.

As it stared into his eyes, he said, "Message to Dewey Skroohem of Diagon Alley. I have just - _again_ - been approached by Rita Skeeter without permission. This time, please tell Mister Cuffe his latest legal difficulties will disappear if he hands over to me his shares in the Daily Prophet. However, Skeeter is to immediately lose her job. Go."

The stag gave a nod, spun about and disappeared through the wall of the tavern, heading for Diagon Alley.

When Harry turned around to glare once more at Skeeter. She had resumed her feet but was leaning on the table in utter shock.

Harry glared and snarled, "_Get out!_"

She ran from the tavern.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next weekend Harry and Daphne met Cygnus at the main gate and floo'ed from the Three Broomsticks to the Leaky Cauldron.

From there, Cygnus led them just into Knockturn Alley where there was a wandcrafter who made custom wands.

Harry handed over his wand 'ingredients' and described what he hoped to achieve. The wandcrafter, call-me-Mo, accepted them and promised to have them done within the half hour.

"You'll have to let me know how successful it turns out to be, my Lord," said Mo. "This may lead to a whole new business line for me."

Harry smiled back and said, "I will when I can, Mo. I'll still need to carve the runes before I can properly test it out. Even then, I may have to ask a couple of different squibs to try it for me before I'll be satisfied as to whether or not it will be successful."

They then hurried down to Gringotts, where Harry opened the new vault he promised the twins and transferred the 1,100₲ into it, and withdrew the 150₲ in a charmed bag to give to them on his return, or the next day. Bloodfang handed Harry the key for the vault with strict instructions the key had to be handed to one of the twins before the expiry of twenty-four hours.

Further, as Weasley Wizarding Wheezes was also a part Potter enterprise the twins would be provided with excellent rates of return.

Bloodfang also informed him of the breakdown of share-ownership of the Daily Prophet. Harry already knew he owned twenty-five percent. The remainder was House Black - twenty percent; House Malfoy - twenty percent; House Longbottom - fifteen percent; House Lestrange - ten percent; House Fudge - five percent; and Barnaby Cuffe - five percent.

"Right," said Harry, after he saw the breakdown. "I want the ownerships of the shares owned by as many of those as you can purchase except the forty percent owned by Houses Black and Longbottom. It may also be wise not to approach Mister Cuffe for his shares until I sack his arse. Then, we may be able to get them for a significant lower price."

"It will be done," said Bloodfang, writing it down.

"If you can't get them via goblin means, use Dewey Skroohem as your go-between," he said.

Bloodfang nodded as he was writing before he looked up and asked, "Any other media organisations you want to go after?"

Harry thought about it for a few moments, before he said, "Have a look at Wizarding Wireless Network. I know I don't currently own shares in that, but it's yet another media organisation that seems to take delight in annoying me. I might consider purchasing that either outright or just hold majority shares."

"It will be done," said Bloodfang, once again writing away on the parchment before him.

"Thank you, my friend," said Harry, standing up. "May our business together continue to be profitable."

"And may gold continue to flow into our vaults," Bloodfang responded in kind.

Harry, Cygnus and Daphne made their way from Gringotts back to Knockturn Alley and the unnamed shop of Mo the wandcrafter. When the finished product was handed back to Harry he saw it turned out to be a work of art. He could even feel that it already contained some power.

As requested, the fire opal was fused into the grip of the wand almost perfectly centred. The wood seemed to flow around it at three points, holding the gem firmly in place. The karri wood is a deep red with black highlights through it that were drawn out by the wood lacquer and polish it was now coated with. With the fire opal in the grip, it appeared as if the wood was alight from the gem.

"Merlin, that's a beautiful looking wand," Daphne breathed, looking at it sitting in Harry's hand. "It almost appears as if it's on fire."

Both adults silently nodded before Mo asked, "I've never worked with that wood before, My Lord. Could you tell me what it is, please? I think I'll look to purchasing some for myself."

"It's Australian Karri," replied Harry. "K.A.R.R.I. - It's quite common down there. Your timber merchant should be able to procure it for you."

Mo simply nodded back, still staring at the wand.

It was also a little longer than Harry's own wand; and thicker, too. It appeared to be about twelve inches long, and almost half again as thick as his holly and phoenix core wand. As it was made of a hard wood it was utterly inflexible.

He cast a quick Light Charm and it worked, though not as well as his Holly wand. Once he had the runes carved, however, he hoped it would prove effective.

Handing over the payment, Harry and the others ducked back into the Leaky Cauldron to floo over to the Ministry. They were running a little early, but Harry wanted to make himself available to those who might wish to 'have a chat' with him. He might be a 'Claw but he knew the value of forming temporary alliances over certain issues. He left his office door open as clear invitation.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the session, Harry was finally able to table the documentation to hand his proxy over to Gran and make his escape. However, he had to remain with Daphne in the visitors' gallery while they waited for the session to wind to a close.

Cygnus wanted to escort them back to Hogwarts. And Harry had to promise Sirius he'd spend at least one day of the Easter Holiday period with him at the Black House. A promise he was happy to make. But, Daphne begged off to allow Harry some 'boy' time with his godfather and honourary uncle. He loved her all the more for it.

During the walk from the Three Broomsticks back to the castle, Harry continued to finger the new wand. He could also sense the magic inherent in the wand but was looking forward to engraving the runes on the opal, the rest of the grip and the shaft. He could hardly wait to start carving them.

"Cygnus," said Harry, getting his future father-in-law's attention. "I owe you an apology."

"Oh?" asked the older man.

"It had slipped my mind that, when I - forced - the Ministry to emancipate me, it would mean Daphne and my marriage would be - moved up a fair bit."

"Ah!" smiled Cygnus. "Finally figured that bit out, did you?"

With a wry grin, Harry replied, "Actually, Daphne reminded me of that little fact only a couple days ago."

"You have nothing to apologise for, Harry," said the other man. "Isabel, Daphne and I were all well aware what the emancipation would mean. However, it was clear afterwards you didn't."

"We also felt you wouldn't go through with it if you knew," he continued. "Sometimes, you're just too bloody noble for your own good."

"That's what _I_ keep telling him," Daphne cut in.

"Well, to allay your fears, Harry," said Cygnus. "We're all okay with this; understand?"

Harry sighed and nodded his head.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When Valentine's Day rolled around a few weeks later, Harry felt it was time to start - changing things up a bit. Especially as this was the last one before they'd be married.

As per the norm, twinned roses waited on Daphne's bed head shelf. This time one was emerald green with silver trim, while the other was blue with a bronze trim. They were tied together with a white ribbon.

Squealing in happiness she was quick to bathe and dress before dashing upstairs to the Great Hall. She dashed in through the doors, looking for Harry. However, for the first Valentines Day in four years, Harry did not beat her to the Great Hall.

She saw the others sitting together at the Hufflepuff tables and made her way over. With a pout, she asked, "Where's Harry?"

"Not here yet," said Hermione, looking up.

Looking towards the doors, Susan grinned and said, "He is now."

Daphne spun about to see Harry walk in. It was a Sunday, so he wasn't wearing school uniform. Instead, he was dressed in some of his finest robes.

But, Daphne noticed little of that. What she was looking at was the huge bouquet of long stemmed roses with baby's breath mixed in that her betrothed was carrying in on the crook of his left elbow.

Daphne didn't know whether to wait for him to come to her, or dash over to him. Instead, she practically bounced on the balls of her feet and let out a little squeal.

As Harry slowly walked over he was reciting poetry. "It's Amazing - How one person can change your life. How a smile from you can erase everything bad. How life seems less scary when you're holding my hand.

"It's Phenomenal - How fate brings two strangers together. How I survived before I knew you. How, whenever I'm with you it's like a great new adventure.

"It's Beautiful - How love can be so unconditional. How learning about you is like reading my favourite story. How loving you is so easy.

"And I'm so thankful - That I'm able to know this - amazing - phenomenal - beautiful person.

And because - I love you." (1)

As he said the last three words, he handed her the huge bouquet of two dozen red roses. Daphne, barely looking at the flowers, accepted them out of his hand and placed them on the table. She threw her arms around him and gave him a proper snogging right then and there.

When they broke apart she grinned at him and blushed before picking the bouquet up and nearly burying her blushing face in the middle of the blossoms.

But, Harry wasn't finished. A snap of his fingers and he held five single red roses with baby's breath wreathing each. Each was also beribboned with the colours of one of the four Hogwarts' Houses. He then handed one each to each of the ladies of their group with a kiss on the cheek before returning to Daphne.

Just down the table, one of the Seventh Year Hufflepuffs was repeatedly lightly banging his forehead on the table top. And around the Great Hall he could see other boys getting filthy looks from some of the girls and looking sheepish about it all.

Behind him, from the Ravenclaw table where he was sitting with his back to Harry, Harry heard his teammate, McCutcheon, mutter, "Bloody Hell, Potter. I _wish_ you'd stop doing that."

Harry just grinned back before leaning to whisper into the boy's ear. "If you have a special someone you need to make it up to," he whispered, "might I suggest going down to the kitchens and organising a picnic lunch out on the lawns near the lake? The elves are very good at creating picnic baskets, and even provide you with a waterproof blanket. Don't forget the Warming Charms."

The boy listened before he turned around and grinned at Harry. "That's a very nice idea. Thank you."

Harry just patted his teammate on the back and sat down at the Hufflepuff table next to Daphne. He was hungry.

Blaise, from where he was sitting on the other side and next to Tracey, leaned over and softly said, "I'm Italian, Potter. _We're_ the ones who are supposed to be romantic." He then sat up winked at Harry with a bit of a smirk and, while Tracey was turned the other way talking to Hannah, slipped his hand into his pocket and drew forth a slim green box with a white carnation flower on top. Slowly he slid it along the table so it was next to Tracey's plate.

Harry and Daphne watched him move it across. Harry was grinning from ear to ear while Daphne watched in shock.

From where she was sitting between Daphne and Neville, the movement caught Susan's eye. She turned to see the final movement and her eyes widened in surprise.

It was the look on Susan's face, and where she was staring, that made Tracey turn back to look at her plate - and the gift now sitting next to it.

With a gasp of surprise she glanced at a smiling Blaise before looking down at the felt covered box again. With suddenly shaking hands, she reached down and picked it up. She took a deep breath and slowly opened the box. As what was inside caught her eyes, they widened in shock with her mouth slowly falling open. She let out a soft, "_Eep_," before turning to look at Blaise.

"Do you like it?" he asked a bit hesitantly.

Snapping the lid shut in her hand, she threw her arms around the boy and gave him a good snogging right there. There were quite a few sniggers from those nearby.

Turning back while Blaise sat there with a dreamy look on his pinking face, Tracey reopened the box and drew forth a lovely silver necklace with a small teardrop emerald hanging from it. The others girls at the table looked at it with ooh's and ahh's on their lips.

She quickly undid the clasp, held the two ends in one hand, flicked her hair away from the back of her neck and turned her back to Blaise, holding the chain over one shoulder.

Blaise was still sitting there, somewhat in a daze.

Taking pity on the boy, Harry said, "Mister Zabini. I believe Lady Tracey requires your assistance," and nodded his head to Tracey.

Blaise seemed to snap out of his daze and, turning to look, quietly said "Oh!" He reached out, took the chain and looped it around Tracey's neck before reconnecting the clasp while she held her hair out of the way.

Once she felt it was connected, Tracey allowed her hair to fall back into place and spun around to give Blaise another snogging.

Down the table, the same Seventh Year from before was, again, banging his forehead off the table top.

Daphne saw him and snickered.

Harry wondered when Neville was going to make his move. That answer came just before lunch was about to begin for the group, now including Blaise.

Hannah was looking a little sulky for most of the morning, and Susan was glowering at Neville. It was getting to the point where Harry feared he'd have to take the other boy aside and 'give him a stern talking to'.

However, just as they were sitting down to lunch in the Great Hall, in walked Gran and Michael Abbott, walking side by side. Both were sporting wide grins.

This time, the group was sitting at the Gryffindor table - away from the etiquette lacking young Mister Weasley, of course - so the two had not far to walk.

Dumbledore looked up as they walked in, stood and called, "Michael, Augusta - What brings you to Hogwarts this lovely day?"

"Family business, Albus," replied Michael. "Nothing for you to concern yourself about."

Dumbledore sank back into his chair with a bit of a frown of annoyance with a liberal dash of curiosity.

Neville appeared to waiting for them, because he stood almost as soon as they walked in through the doors.

Harry was about to call out to them with an informal greeting when Neville drew himself up to his full height and, in a clear voice, said, "Regent Longbottom - Lord Abbott - A pleasure." And bowed to each.

Harry stood in surprise at Neville's formality as Hannah looked in shock and quietly asked, "Daddy?"

Michael gave his daughter a little 'sit' motion with his hand as he addressed Neville. "Heir Longbottom," replied Michael with a Head of House very slight bow. He then turned to Harry and, with the bow of one equal to another and a decided twinkle in his eyes, said "Lord Potter."

The surprise was Gran who gave a very slight curtsey to Neville with a slight duck of her head and said, "Heir Longbottom." Before she, too, turned to Harry and gave a slightly deeper and longer bow and head bob, "Lord Potter."

"Lord Abbott," said Harry with a slight bow. He then turned to Gran and, with a slight head nod, said, "Dame Longbottom."

Michael turned to Neville and asked, "Is there somewhere we can go - more private?"

"Yes - umm..." and looked at Harry.

Thinking he had a pretty good idea what was going on - and it looked like so did Hannah - Harry looked to the others and asked, "Our Room?"

With affirmative nods from the group, a relieved Neville led the procession back out the doors of the Great Hall. Harry made sure Blaise accompanied them.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

* * *

A/N: (1) Author - Jaclyn R Svaren


	70. Kidnapped

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy - Kidnapped**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As they made their way upstairs, Harry turned to Blaise and said, "Now that you're part of our group we're about to show you a secret. It's a big one. And we hope you'll keep it a secret, for our sakes."

Looking back at Blaise, Harry saw the boy consider that for a few moments, then glance over at a pleading Tracey. With a sigh, he turned back to Harry and said, "A secret I'm honoured to keep."

Harry nodded back and said, "Thank you."

Once they were on the seventh floor in front of the tapestry of Barnaby the Barmy and his trolls, Harry said, "Configure it as you want, Neville. This is your show."

Neville wore a look of concentration, and walked the corridor three times. Gran, Michael and Blaise stood there looking confused, but didn't say anything because the rest of the group just calmly watched.

As Neville passed where the door would appear on the third pass, it did. This time it was a single white door. Gran and the other two gasped a little in surprise.

He approached the door and opened it for everyone to follow him in.

As the last to enter, Harry quietly stepped in and firmly closed the door, locking it behind him. When he turned he could see that it was their 'common room' without the potions lab or study carousels.

At the other end, the training platform was also missing and, in its place was a linen covered table with two chairs across the other side at the side, and a chair at either end. And facing it all was a dozen matching chairs.

"What _is_ this place?" asked Michael, in wonder.

Neville replied, "This is what we know as the Come and Go Room. It configures itself to whatever you want it to be, simply by thinking about it and walking three times along the corridor outside as you saw me do. In a slightly different configuration, we've been using it as a multi-house common room so we can all study together.

"We actually spend more time studying here than anywhere else within the castle. For this I've configured it for the signing and so people can watch. And, once we're done, we can rest on the couches and relax."

"But first," he said, taking a deep, calming breath and walking over to Hannah. "Hannah, my love, I've known you were the one for me almost from the first day we stepped into Hogwarts. It took me a couple of years to square my shoulders and gather that Gryffindor courage I'm supposed to have to ask you to be my girlfriend.

Not long ago we agreed that, on completion of our studies, we'd marry." He then drew a small ring box out of his hand and dropped to one knee. "So, Hannah Mary Abbott, would you do me the honour of becoming my betrothed?" And, holding it up and open as an offering to Hannah, waited there for her to take the ring inside.

Hannah squealed and bounced on her toes, before she nodded. "Yes! Yes! A _thousand_ times, yes!"

Everyone else chuckled as Neville lowered the ring box and took out the ring within. He held it up as Hannah held out her left hand. He then slid the ring on and everyone saw the little flash that marked it had resized itself to fit her finger.

The other girls , in their group, were all bouncing in excitement, wanting to dash forward to look at the rings. Harry and Blaise looked at each other, quite amused.

Repeating the procedure, Hannah slid Neville's matching ring onto his ring finger, where it too flashed resizing itself.

"Excellent!" said Michael, before he turned and walked over to the table. On it he opened his business valise and extracted three sets of documents. Gran joined him in the other chair on the side, before they both gestured for Neville and Hannah to come forward. The two newly-engaged teens took seat at the ends of the table on the same side as their blood.

The others all filed into the chairs facing the table a few feet away.

Michael explained about the betrothal contract to both young teens, then he and Gran signed it as the current Heads of their Houses.

As soon as the last signatures were signed, one of the copies disappeared in a heatless flash of flame while Michael handed one to Gran. He placed his back into his business valise, while Gran folded hers lengthways and put it into an inside robe pocket.

With matching grins the four of them congratulated each other, and Michael called the others over.

Once congratulations were exchanged, and the girls ooh'ed and ahh'ed over the rings, Harry reconfigured the short table into a longer table and called an elf to prepare them all a small lunch.

Harry grinned at Neville and said, "Nev - godbrother - not even a whisper of a word to mine ears." And mock sighed.

Neville just grinned back.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As scheduled, the second task was held on 24th of February, only a week and a half after Neville and Hannah were betrothed.

This time, it was a mid morning task starting at 9.30am, with a large viewing stand sitting along the edge of the Black Lake. Harry wondered if he could even be bothered going down to watch - whatever it was - of the task.

Looking around at breakfast he noticed Hermione was not down. As an early riser, she was often one of the first of their group down for breakfast.

Harry frowned and looked to Neville, "Nev?" he asked the other boy. "Where's Hermione?"

Neville shrugged and replied, "She didn't come down to the common room, this morning, so I thought she must've beaten me down here. Now, I have no idea."

"I need to find her," said Harry. "Something's not right." He rose and headed from the Slytherin table across to the Gryffindor table.

Seeing the group of girls that made up Hermione's dorm mates, he approached them.

"Ladies," he began, getting their attention. "Did you see Hermione, this morning?"

"No," said Parvati Patil.

"She didn't come back to the dorm, last night, either," said Lavender Brown.

Parvati continued, "She received a note to see Professor McGonagall and, as far as we know, hasn't come back."

"Thank you, Ladies," said Harry turning to the head table, where he saw Professor McGonagall sitting.

He walked up to stand before the head table in front of the professor, and asked, "Professor McGonagall. The ladies of Gryffindor Fourth Year have informed me Miss Granger was summoned to your office yesterday and appears to have never returned. Where did she go after she left you?"

McGonagall turned a little white and glanced at the old man. That glance was most telling.

"Ah, Harry," said Dumbledore, "Perhaps we should take..."

"Professor McGonagall," Harry said sharply, not even glancing at the Headmaster. "_Where_ is Miss Granger?"

"She is - assisting in the second task..." tried the professor.

That hesitation in replying was another tell.

Harry flared his magic and roared, "Where is _my Protectee_, Lady Hermione Jean Granger, _Head_ of the Noble and Ancient House of Dagworth-Granger?"

Professor McGonagall blanched and looked like she was about to pass out before she turned to Dumbledore and begged, "_Albus!_ Tell him _right now_!"

That also brought Neville and the others over.

Dumbledore stuttered and said, "Miss Granger is the hostage for the Durmstrang Champion in the second task. She's currently in an enchanted sleep at the bottom of the Black Lake..."

Harry glared at both Professor McGonagall and the headmaster and said, "Which one of you two - or another - is responsible for this?"

"That would be me, Mister Potter," said Dumbledore. "As Headmaster I act in _loco parentis_..."

"Right," said Harry interrupting and looking straight at him. "You better hope she's in very, very good health, Dumbledore; and shows no ill-effects from this. Because, if she's not - if she much as suffers from a case of the sniffles - I'm going to be very happy to throw your arse through the Veil of Death myself. You are aware - you must be, of course, since you were once Chief Warlock - that kidnapping the Head of a Noble and Ancient House is an _automatic_ death sentence?"

Dumbledore went white and only stuttered back.

Harry spun on his feet and snapped out, "Susan; patronus your aunt, please. Inform her Lady Hermione has been kidnapped and being held as a hostage in a most dangerous environment. Daphne; please patronus your parents and inform them that their magical ward, Lady Hermione, has been kidnapped."

Turning back around, Harry glared and said with an ominous voice, "I suggest, old man, you get your arse down to the Black Lake and get her back, right now. If you don't have her back here safe, warm and dry within the next half hour I will be demanding of the Wizengamot, as her Protector, your immediate _execution_. That is, of course, if Lord Greengrass doesn't beat me to it. _Now move!_"

Dumbledore rose and walked from the room to the front doors of the castle.

Harry followed along a dozen feet behind.

Without even turning to look back, Dumbledore said, "There was really no need for that - in there - Mister Potter."

"Headmaster Dumbledore, I am currently acting in my role as Protector of Lady Hermione," said Harry. "If that has not been made perfectly clear to you; then, perhaps you may wish to claim you are mentally deficient as part of your defence. Of course, if that is your choice, I'm sure the School Board will also have no choice but to accept your resignation due to permanent ill health."

Dumbledore stiffened a little for a few moments as he walked but didn't respond.

As they arrived at the edge of the lake, Dumbledore said, "You do realise, if I have Miss Granger removed from the lake, it will upset the programming of the task? Word, of course, will get out that the task has had to be delayed because of your actions."

"Well, since we'll have a wide audience waiting in the stands you've erected, I'll keep them entertained with the tale of just _why_ the task's been delayed while they're waiting. I will, of course, mention that - besides the fact she's Head of a Noble and Ancient House - Miss Granger is an underaged witch, and you failed to seek permission from her guardians before you took her," growled Harry. "Of course, I'll make _special_ mention to the mothers who'll be in those stands you had plenty of time in which to seek that permission but decided the oh, so great, self-appointed, Leader of the Light - Albus Fucking Dumbledore - clearly believes he doesn't need to give a flying toss about something as inconvenient as the law!

"In other words, Albus; the little threat you just made just got flung back into your face in full measure," snarled Harry, staring at the side of the old man's head as the Headmaster would not look at him. "Because, you see; what you fail to understand is, unlike you, I place my responsibilities _above_ my reputation; and not the other way around. That's what a _real_ Leader of the Light would do. Now stop trying to delay matters and get me my naffing _Protectee!_"

Dumbledore conjured himself one of the little boats normally used to bring the First Years across the lake. He then set it to power a little quicker than normal across the water.

While Harry stood on the bank waiting; Cygnus, Isabel, Amelia and a half dozen aurors turned up. From the directions they approached, Amelia and the aurors had clearly run from the gates while Cygnus had run from the castle - after first running from the gates. Even Isabel was appearing a little puffed.

"Where is the old fool," growled Cygnus, before Amelia could ask.

Harry just pointed out into the middle of the lake.

Out in the middle, it appeared Dumbledore was leaning over the side of the boat and talking to someone. They watched as a few minutes later what had to be Hermione was plucked from the water and levitated into the boat. From where they stood they could see Dumbledore pass his wand over her and conjured a blanket to wrap around her.

Finally, the boat was slowly on its way back.

Watching them come, Harry growled, "Naff this!" He drew in his magic and aimed his wand out at the boat and incanted, "_Accio_ boat!" And continued to pump magic into the cast.

The little boat quickly picked up speed and came slicing across the water at least double the speed it headed out. Dumbledore, in front, appeared to be hanging on for dear life.

When the boat was about twenty feet out, Harry cancelled the Charm and allowed the boat to slow and drift in up onto the beach where it firmly grounded.

Quickly, Cygnus moved forward and lifted Hermione out of the back of the boat, placing her on her feet on the bank.

Cygnus said, "Miss Granger, you're freezing!" He looked up at the aurors and asked, "Is one of you a healer?"

One of the aurors stepped forward and said, "I am," before he come all the way down to the bank and cast over Hermione. He stood up and said, "We need to get her to the infirmary. She's half-frozen!" And began casting warming charms on her.

Harry snarled and called, "Petey!"

The little elf popped in a moment later. "Yes, Mas..."

"Petey!" interrupted Harry. He pointed to Hermione and the auror and said, "Emergency transport. I need you take these two to the infirmary up in the castle right now."

"Yes, Master Harry," snapped the elf before he zipped forward, grabbed onto both of them, and disappeared with a loud crack.

Turning to Dumbledore, Harry snarked, "You know - if you'd stopped to think, Headmaster - you would have portkeyed her directly to the infirmary from the boat while you were still out in the middle of the lake!"

Dumbledore looked started for a moment before he sighed and ducked his head. "You are, of course, correct Ha - Mister Potter."

Harry just shook his head in frustration at the old fool before turning to Cygnus. "I take it, Lord Greengrass, as Lady Hermione's magical guardian you did not grant permission for her to be taken and placed as a hostage at the bottom of the lake?"

"I did not!" he glared at Dumbledore.

Turning to Aunt Amelia he then said, "Well, there you have it, Madam Bones. Albus Dumbledore kidnapped the Head of a Noble and Ancient House for the purpose of using her as a hostage. He then placed her in a dangerous environment in an enchanted sleep state where she was supposed to await rescue by a student from Durmstrang.

"I'm sure both your auror healer and Madam Pomfrey are quite concerned regarding her core body temperature. When someone's core body temperature drops to a certain point - it's called hypothermia, by the way - _they die_. And the temperature of the water in that lake is _way_ below the minimum threshold at which death becomes likely, if not inevitable.

"That then leads into the question of whether or not there are two _other_ unwilling and or underaged hostages _still_ sitting at the bottom of the lake - for the other two champions - and facing the same risk of hypothermia on their way to being _dead_."

Aunt Amelia turned and glared at Dumbledore. "Is this true, Albus?"

"Now, Amelia," stuttered Dumbledore, "I assure you..."

"_Get them out!_" she screeched at him. "_Now!_"

Dumbledore sighed while Cygnus turned to Amelia and said, "I want him charged. _And_ I want an immediate trial. In the meantime, we're going up to the castle to check on our ward."

Amelia gave a nod to Cygnus without taking her eyes off Dumbledore.

As he, Cygnus and Isabel walked away, Harry heard Amelia say, "Enlarge that boat; then, you three accompany this old fool back out onto the lake to retrieve those other two hostages - And _portkey_ them directly to the infirmary. Dumbledore can make them inside the grounds of Hogwarts.

"And when you return directly back to here, Dumbledore. And you _will_ return directly back here on that boat..."

By then the three were out of hearing range for Harry to listen any further.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once they reached the infirmary they found Hermione in bed with Madam Pomfrey clucking over her; and the auror healer muttering imprecations at a certain old fool of a man. Harry, Cygnus and Isabel held back until the medi-witch left.

Once she did, Cygnus and Isabel then walked up one side while Harry walked up the other.

"How are you feeling, my dear?" asked Isabel.

"Like I'm still a little cold, and it's really hot in here," replied Hermione. She then frowned and said, "I don't know what happened. One moment I was walking in to Professor McGonagall's classroom. And, the next thing I know, I'm being levitated out of the water out in the middle of Black Lake."

"So, you didn't give your permission to be out there, then?" asked Cygnus.

"No," she replied. "I received a note that said Professor McGonagall wanted to see me in her classroom; so I headed directly there. I think someone hit me with a spell from behind, as I walked in."

"So, McGonagall was in on it," said Harry. "That makes it a conspiracy; and her guilty of aiding and abetting in a kidnapping as an accomplice."

Cygnus looked like he was about to say something when Madam Pomfrey returned. Harry backed away from the side of the bed to let the medi-witch in closer and waited.

When she'd finished a second set of scans, Madam Pomfrey said, "Well, your core temperature has risen back to where I'm happy for you to sit up. However, for the rest of the day, you're to refrain from going outside into the cold. I don't want you to leave here until I'm sure your temperature will not, once more, fall."

"Yes, Madam Pom..." Hermione began to reply, when there was an incoming portkey and three others arrived in the middle of the floor.

There was an auror with a wet and bedraggled Miss Cho Chang and a similar wet and bedraggled small girl in Beauxbatons robes with white blonde hair. The second looked to be about eight or nine years old. The little girl was crying and both she and Miss Cho were shivering a little.

Cygnus and Madam Pomfrey attended them in a flash, with her and the auror healer casting multiple drying charms on the pair of them.

As soon as they appeared dry enough, both were placed onto beds alongside Hermione. Madam Pomfrey attended the small Beauxbatons girl first, as she appeared the most distressed.

Madam Pomfrey was running her diagnostics when she gasped and said, "She's part _Veela_! And Albus had her at the bottom of the _lake?_"

"_Damn_, that idiot!" snarled Cygnus.

The medi-witch appeared to be muttering imprecations under her breath as she worked. She then started urging the young girl to drink a couple of different potions.

Once she'd had the small girl drink a couple she moved over to Miss Cho, who was already being worked on by the auror healer, and ran the same diagnostics; also muttering under her breath.

Looking at the auror that brought the pair of them, Cygnus asked, "Where's the old fool now?"

"On his way back to the bank in the boat," replied the auror. "Madam Bones wants a word with him. I'm to stay here with the - hostages." Clearly, he knew who was meant by 'old fool'.

By the time Madam Bones walked in with a 'de-wanded' Dumbledore, the two aurors had taken statements from Hermione and Chang. The young Beauxbatons girl only replied in rapid-fire near-hysterical French and was too upset for Harry and Cygnus, who both knew conversational French, to get much information out of her. Though, Harry's French pronunciation wasn't that good, he could make himself understood if he spoke slowly.

One of the aurors had already left to go to the Beauxbatons carriage to collect Madame Maxime.

While they were waiting, Harry thought to ask the girl direct questions.

"_Quel est votre nom, votre petit chéri?_" (What is your name, little darling?)

"_Gabrielle Delacour_" (Gabrielle Delacour)

"_Comment êtes-vous parent avec Fleur Delacour?_" (How are you related to Fleur Delacour?)

"_Elle est ma soeur_" (She is my sister)

"_Lentement maintenant - afin que nous puissions vous comprendre - ce qui est la dernière chose dont te souviens avant de vous réveilliez pour être tiré hors de l'eau?_" (Slowly now - so that we can understand you - what's the last thing you remember before you woke up being pulled from the water?)

"_Directrice Maxime. Elle m'a appelé dans son bureau. Je venais juste quand tout est devenu noir._" (Headmistress Maxime. She called me to her office. I had just walked in when everything went black.)

Cygnus frowned and asked, "_Êtes-vous apparenté à Jean-Paul Delacour, le Ministre de la Magie en France?_" (Are you related to Jean-Paul Delacour, the Minister for Magic in France?)

"_Oui. Il est mon père._" (Yes. He is my father)

Cygnus threw his hands in the air and half-snarled, "Oh, this is just getting better and better!"

"Cygnus. What's wrong?" asked Aunt Amelia.

"Not _only_ has that old fool kidnapped three underaged witches for this bloody event - not _only_ is one of them the Head of a Noble and Ancient House - this young lady here," pointing at young Miss Delacour, "is the daughter of the French _Minister for Magic_!"

Dumbledore appeared to be in genuine shock where he quietly stood.

"Oh, _Merlin_!" moaned Aunt Amelia, ducking her head and putting her hand to her face.

Dropping her hand, Aunt Amelia turned and glared at Dumbledore. "You bloody self-righteous _fool_! If anything had happened to the young lady, we might well have found ourselves at _war with France_!"

Stuttering Dumbledore said, "I assure you, Amelia; they were all perfectly safe..."

"They most certainly _were not_, Albus!" snarled Madam Pomfrey, from where she was working on Miss Cho. "While they would not have _drowned_ due to the enchanted sleep you placed them in; you did _nothing_ about the cold. Another couple of hours, at most, and _all three_ would be dead from hypothermia. In Miss Delacour's case, she would have perished far sooner, as she's part-Veela!"

"So - again - the great and powerful Albus _flippin'_ Dumbledore - blinded by his own so-called brilliance - utterly stuffed it up," growled Harry. "And _this_ time, you did it acting in your authority as Headmaster."

"I suggest," cut in Cygnus, "that after Madam Bones has finished with you, you go and pack your office, Dumbledore. Your position as Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry will _not_ survive this debacle. The pity is, you're probably going to take Minerva McGonagall and Madam Maxime with you. No; your biggest concern in your own best interests should be whether or not you get to _live_ long enough to even bother with 'retiring' as Headmaster."

When Madam Maxime entered she was immediately asked whether or not she had anything to do with the young Delacour girl being at the bottom of the lake.

"Oui, I know what the task is and what it will entail," she replied. "Dumbly-dorr 'as promised me 'e would make sure she was per-fectly safe."

"And you had permission from her father for her to be held as a hostage at the bottom of the lake?" asked Aunt Amelia.

"Non. I am 'er - 'ow you say - _guardian_ - while she eez at school," the very tall woman proudly stood straighter.

"Then, answer this, Madam - Are you at your school, right now?" asked Aunt Amelia. "Is young Miss Delacour at your school, right now?"

"Errr - oui - I belief so," frowned the tall woman.

"You are wrong, Madam," said Aunt Amelia.

"Through international agreement, you were at your school while you were in your carriage. The moment you took Miss Delacour _out_ of your carriage you entered Magical Britain. You kidnapped the daughter of the French Minister of Magic, transported her across International boundaries by taking her outside of your carriage, and handed her over to Albus Dumbledore," Aunt Amelia said in a very direct and cold voice. "In so doing you have created an international incident that may have resulted in there existing a state of _war_ between France and Britain."

Letting that sink in for a moment while Madam Maxime appeared to be in shock, Aunt Amelia then said, "Madam Olympe Maxime, you are hereby under arrest for the kidnapping of Miss Gabrielle Delacour." Turning to one of the nearest aurors she said, "Put her in magical suppression cuffs and escort her to the holding cells at the DMLE. Use the floo in here. I'll deal with her later."

"Yes, Ma'am," said one of the aurors who reached into his robes and withdrew a set of the suppression handcuffs.

The tall woman stood shocked and stuttered, "But, Dumbly-dorr. 'e promised me she would be safe!"

"She was not, Madam. Dumbledore was wrong. As you claim to be her guardian, it was your responsibility to ensure she was," replied Aunt Amelia. "Take her away."

Looking to another auror, she said, "Go get Professor McGonagall and bring her here," as Madam Maxime was floo'ed out through the infirmary fireplace.

"Amelia, please see reason," pleaded Dumbledore. "The task requires the use of hostages, and they have to be people the champions would miss the most if they died."

"You're making that determination off the clue you put in the golden eggs, aren't you?" asked Harry.

"Yes, Harry," replied Dumbledore, falsely pleased someone understood.

"_No_, Albus," snarked Harry right back. "You could have used anyone, or any_thing_.

"Your clue is, '_Come seek us where our voices sound; we cannot sing above the ground. And while you're searching, ponder this: we've taken __**what**__ you'll sorely miss. An hour long you'll have to look; and to recover __**what**__ we took. But past an hour - the prospect's black; too late, __**it's**__ gone, __**it**__ wont come back_'.

"'_It_', Albus; not '_who_' - You could have used anything," sighed Harry. "If it was meant to be a person then your clue would have been this, '_Come seek us where our voices sound; we cannot sing above the ground. And while you're searching, ponder this: we've taken __**who**__ you'll sorely miss. An hour long you'll have to look; and to recover __**who**__ we took. But past an hour - the prospect's black; too late, __**they're**__ gone, __**they**__ wont come back_'.

"You see? It still works and rhymes," said Harry. "By using the term 'it' you've completely misrepresented what was taken.

"Of course, your next issue is how the bloody hell you could believe Mister Krum would miss Lady Hermione. She agreed to go to the Yule Ball with Mister Krum as a _favour_ to the boy so he wouldn't be hounded by fangirls. Something Lady Hermione certainly is _not_. 'We've taken what you'll surely miss'? I think _not_.

"On top of that point, you - again - didn't think it through. You could have simply brought the girls in here in their enchanted sleep states and left them here until after the task commenced. In the lake you could have used - one - adults who have volunteered and taken polyjuice to appear like the girls; two - or been placed under a powerful glamour; three - a life-sized statue or mannequin of each of the girls; four - instead of people, an object, such as their favourite Quidditch broom; and five - well, you get the point. And those are just off the top of my head thought up on the spur of the moment.

"There was no reason, whatsoever, for you to place these three young ladies in danger when there were so many _other_ options open to you. So, you _cannot_ use that as an excuse."

"Well, Albus," smirked Aunt Amelia. "It seems Lord Potter has both shot down your argument and given you a few methods by which you could have had your so-called hostages without placing these young ladies at risk."

Dumbledore hung his head in apparent shame and said, "Yes, Amelia; he has. They're all good ideas I did not consider."

"The problem now, though," Harry continued, looking at Aunt Amelia, "is there are three champions who are _supposed_ to start their second task at 9.30am, and there are _no_ hostages for them to rescue. I suggest waiting for Professor McGonagall to get here, get her to conjure up three life-sized mannequins of and dressed as the three young ladies here, and get them down to the lake and into the water.

"Of course, unless there's anyone _else_ around who can speak mermish, you'll need to take the old fool with you to speak to the merfolk to get them to place the mannequins where these three ladies _were_, before Dumbledore was forced to retrieve them.

"Next. As you've taken Madam Maxime away for questioning, and will probably take Dumbledore as well, as soon as he's liaised with the merfolk to take the mannequins, you'll also need to replace both of them with new judges for the task."

"Third, Madam Bones; you might want to consider contacting Monsieur Delacour and informing him of the location and condition of his daughter, Mademoiselle Gabrielle Delacour, before he fears the worst. Even if it's only a small thing, it may stave off international sanctions at the very least."

Cygnus snorted and said, "Not only has young Harry laid out a lot of ways you could have handled the situation, Albus; he's also spotted the next few problems and provided solutions to dealing with them."

When Professor McGonagall entered, she was at first shocked to see the three girls on the beds. She was instructed by Madam Bones to create three life-like and sized mannequins of the three girls so that they could act as hostages down at the bottom of the lake.

When she heard that, it was clear she was surprised and relieved before she glared at Dumbledore. Her unspoken question was clear; 'Why didn't you think of that, Albus?'

Three blankets were dumped on the floor and McGonagall looked at each of the three girls as she quickly transfigured the blankets into life-like and sized mannequins of them.

"They'll last, at least, three hours," she said. "That's plenty of time before the task is well and truly completed."

"Good," said Aunt Amelia before she looked at two of her aurors. "Take these under invisibility charms, and Dumbledore, back down to the boat and out onto the lake. Once they're taken under by the merfolk, all three of you are to come back here."

The two aurors led Dumbledore and three now invisible and levitated mannequins back out before Aunt Amelia turned to Professor McGonagall and said, "Now, Minerva; Miss Granger has informed us she was given a note directing her to visit you in your office, last night. I'd now like to hear your side of the story."

The Professor first - hesitatingly - began to tell of what the Headmaster had instructed her to do. Of how she railed and ranted back. And of how she finally, reluctantly, complied.

She told of the note being sent. Of how she waited in her classroom at her desk while Dumbledore stood just inside the door under a Notice-Me-Not Charm. And how Dumbledore stunned her and caught her before she would be hurt falling to the floor.

Then, she told of how Dumbledore placed a Notice-Me-Not Charm on the girl before levitating her out the door and off to the infirmary.

Next, she described Miss Cho being called in the same manner with the same effect.

When she finished her tale, Aunt Amelia sighed and said, "Minerva, you are aware, are you not, that Miss Granger's magical guardian is Lord Greengrass?"

"I am," she replied.

"You are aware, are you not, that she is a Protectee of the House of Potter?"

"I am."

"And, you are aware, are you not, that Miss Granger is the Head of a Noble and Ancient House?"

The professor hesitated a moment before she took a deep breath and said, "I am."

With another sigh, Aunt Amelia said, "Then - it gives me no pleasure in doing this, but this is a major crime - Madam Minerva McGonagall, you are under arrest for aiding and abetting in the kidnapping of the Head of a Noble and Ancient House, Lady Hermione Granger, and for aiding and abetting in the kidnapping of a minor witch, Miss Cho Chang."

Hermione burst into tears. Isabel moved in to comfort her.

As the Professor went white and looked to be about to faint, Aunt Amelia turned to one of her aurors and said, cuff her with anti-animagus cuffs, take her and place her in a holding cell at the DMLE for further and official questioning."

She then turned back to look at the professor, who stood there with her eyes closed and her hands before her as she was being handcuffed, and said, "Bloody hell, Minerva. I hope you survive this - I really do. And, I hope you'll learn from this that your hero, Albus Dumbledore, is a bloody idiot. Take her away."

As she was escorted to the fireplace and floo'ed away, Harry looked at Aunt Amelia and said, "With both the Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress now in custody, the security of the school is compromised. _Someone_ - hint, hint - needs to appoint an Acting Headmaster or Headmistress."

Aunt Amelia glared at Harry while he just smiled back and Cygnus snorted in amusement.

"Alright, Mister Smarty Pants," she snidely growled at him. "You've figured it all out so far. What does that clever little mind of yours suggest we do?"

"You have three options, really," replied Harry. "Your first is to appoint either Professor Flitwick or Sprout as Head, and the other as Deputy. They are, after all, the two Heads of Houses with the most seniority. Your second is to floo call the current Head of the School Board, those responsible for the hiring and firing of senior staff, and dump it in their lap. And, your third is to ignore it and hope nothing goes wrong until an emergency meeting of the entire School Board is convened and _they_ decide.

"And, then there's still the matter of two missing judges needed before the task starts at 9.30."

Aunt Amelia, closed her eyes, groaned and said, "And I was having such a _wonderfully_ quiet morning..."

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	71. Rita Strikes Again

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy One - Rita Strikes Again**

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Amelia floo called Lord Iain MacMillan, head of the School Board of Governors, from the infirmary fireplace and had him come through. She then dumped the whole issue of appointing a new Acting Head and Deputy onto him, also informed him he'd need to let the Acting Head know they'd be needed as a judge in the rapidly approaching time of the start of the second task, and liaise with the Beauxbatons delegation to inform them of the arrest of Madam Maxime and that they'd need an Acting Head to also judge the second task.

By then, Dumbledore had returned while wearing magical suppression cuffs and floo'ed with her and all but one auror back to the DMLE. She'd also be immediately contacting _Ministre_ Delacour about the welfare of his daughter.

Lord MacMillan got direct to work by seconding Cygnus to go speak with the Beauxbatons delegation while he went to speak with Professor Pomona Sprout about her sudden elevation to Acting Headmistress. Though he grumbled about it, he also said he'd be appointing Professor Flitwick as Acting Deputy Headmaster until the legal issues around Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall could be resolved.

With the remaining auror - the healer auror - staying in the infirmary, Harry wanted to track down his and Hermione's friends to let them know what was going on. However, Lord MacMillan dragged him along to talk to Professor - soon-to-be Acting Headmistress - Sprout.

With Harry having a surreptitious peek at the Map, he directed the other Lord out to the greenhouses by claiming she was constantly working out there.

Once they entered the greenhouse they approached her, with Harry grinning like mad.

Lord MacMillan hemmed and hawed around a bit before Harry came right out and said, "Professor Sprout. Due to unforeseen circumstances, Albus Dumbledore and Minerva McGonagall will be away from the school for an unknown amount of time. It may only be the rest of the day, or it may be much longer. As such, for the safety of the school and its students, an Acting Head needs to be appointed."

"The Headmaster and Professor McGonagall are away?" she asked. "They did not inform me they'd be away. That's quite strange."

"Be that as it may, Professor," said Harry. "Lord MacMillan, here, has a request of you."

Then Harry nudged his fellow Lord.

"Yes. Umm.." he stuttered. "For the duration of this - unusual situation - as I am Head of the School Board, I am using my authority to appoint you as Acting Headmistress."

"You're _what_?" asked the kindly professor.

"Madam, I am appointing you as Acting Headmistress until such time as Dumbledore or McGonagall return."

"_Why?_" she asked, clearly shocked.

"Umm..." tried MacMillan.

Harry cut in smoothly and replied, "Professor, you are one of the three remaining Heads of Houses, so you have seniority. You've also served with distinction in that role. You are well respected by your peers, by the students, by the School Board, and by the parents. As such, Lord MacMillan feels you will make a _fine_ Acting Headmistress.

"The role will also give you some limited experience in the senior management role of the school and may stand you in good stead in the future."

"But, I'm too busy with my greenhouses. Who would take care of my classes and the plants?" she asked.

"Might I suggest you approach Mister Longbottom," replied Harry, deferentially. "As you well know, he is somewhat of a prodigy when it comes to Herbology, and I'm sure he would leap most gleefully at the chance to assist you. I also believe he will be seeking a Mastery in the subject post-NEWTs. Perhaps even to take the classes for the First and Second Years?"

"Errr - Yes. He is, isn't he?" she mused. "I'll have to talk to him, of course. Make sure he's prepared, you know?"

Harry just smiled.

MacMillan finally found his feet and, in a rush, said, "Excellent! I shall leave it to you to inform Professor Flitwick he's to be Acting Deputy Headmaster until this matter is settled? Jolly good. Well, I must be off!" And turned and hurried out of the greenhouse.

Harry grinned at a stunned Professor Sprout before he hurried after the other Lord.

"Well done, my Lord," said Harry, finally catching up and moving to stride alongside MacMillan.

MacMillan snorted and said, "I believe I should be saying that to you - my Lord."

"Please, call me Harry," said Harry. "I sensed you were going to deputise me to give her the good news, and acted in your best interests as a good deputy should."

The other man hesitated for a few moments before he said, "Its Iain. Please, call me Iain. And thank you for your assistance - Harry."

"You're welcome," said Harry. "Well, I need to go and make sure Hogwarts has a judge for the second task and track down my friends..."

The other man suddenly stopped and said, "Shit. I forgot that bit." He turned to Harry and said, "By all means, Harry. Please go and make sure Hogwarts has a judge for the second task. I'll leave that in your most capable hands, shall I? Yes. Well. Carry on, then." And he hurried away to leave the castle.

Harry chuckled at the man's back before drawing out his Map and tracking down his Head of House. He'd need to let the half-goblin know he would very shortly be approached by _Acting Headmistress_ Sprout to be Acting Deputy Headmaster for the foreseeable future, and that he'd probably need to head over to the stands for the judges to judge the second task.

He thought to himself, giggling, 'I'm a Fourth Year, and I'm appointing the Acting Headmistress, Acting Deputy Headmaster, and the school's representative judge for the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. _Ha!_ What a laugh! Sirius is going to _love_ this!'

He didn't like the sound of himself giggling. He thought it too 'girly', but he couldn't help it.

Finally, calming down enough to stop giggling, he found Professor Flitwick in his office. He knocked on the door and was quickly called in.

"Good morning, Professor Flitwick," he gaily said, almost giggling again.

"Mister Potter," smiled the little professor. "What brings you here, this morning? Especially, after that little scene at breakfast."

"Ah!" said Harry. "Sorry about that. However, that's part of the reason why I'm here."

"Oh?"

"Mmm," replied Harry. "Professor Sprout will be along to see you soon. As both the Headmaster and Professor McGonagall are currently - assisting the DMLE with their enquiries into certain criminal matters, and will be away for as long as the DMLE requires their attendance - Lord MacMillan, in his role as head of the School Board of Governors, has just - elevated - her to the position of Acting Headmistress..."

That surprised the little charms professor. However, he held his tongue.

"... for the foreseeable future. She will be dropping by to inform you, on the orders of Lord MacMillan, you've been elevated to the position of Acting Deputy Headmaster."

"I seeeee," said the professor. "That _is_ a surprise."

"Yes, sir," grinned Harry. "However, Lord MacMillan was remiss in informing Acting Headmistress Sprout that either she, or someone acting in her stead, would need to hurry down to the stands for the second task of the Tri-Wizard Tournament. I believe that is a matter she will need to know with some haste, as the event is due to start at 9.30am.

The professor flicked out his wand and muttered, "_Tempus._" The time showed 9.10am.

Resheathing his wand, the professor started to stand and, with a matching grin, said, "In that case, Mister Potter, I'd best go find her to ensure she is made aware of this information."

Harry couldn't help himself, he started snickering. At least it wasn't as bad as giggling.

"Mister Potter?" asked the new Acting Deputy Headmaster.

"I'm sorry, Professor," he sniggered. "But this is just _too_ funny. I'm a Fourth Year, and I'm - effectively - promoting teaching staff to the two most senior positions within the school."

The professor grinned back and said, "Strange days, indeed."

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Leaving the Professor to hunt down the new Acting Headmistress - and with the issue of the judging representative for Hogwarts being seen to - Harry ducked into an alcove and pulled out his Map. He found his friends, less Hermione, coming down the Grand Staircase from the seventh floor, and hurried to intercept them.

Finally catching up to his friends, Daphne asked, "Where have you _been_?"

"Long story, I'm afraid," he said. "In short, and quietly, I had the Headmaster pull Hermione out of the lake where she was anchored somewhere on the bottom of it in an enchanted sleep. Aunt Amelia then forced him to pull another two out. All three are now in the infirmary but will be fine. However, if left there too much longer they'd have died from freezing to death.

"The Headmaster, Professor McGonagall and Headmistress Maxime are all under arrest under charges of kidnapping. Dumbledore and McGonagall are also facing charges relating to the kidnapping of the Head of a Noble and Ancient House."

That made them all draw a sudden breath in shock.

"And, under direction from the head of the School Board of Governors, Lord MacMillan, I've just appointed Professor Sprout to the position of Acting Headmistress, and Professor Flitwick to the position of Acting Deputy Headmaster."

The whole group had stopped and turned to look at Harry in shock. "You've got to be kidding!" said Neville, first to regain the power of speech.

"Nope. It's been a busy hour and a half," replied Harry, grinning. "I take it everyone's heading down to the stands to look at the lake while the champions compete in the task?"

"Errr - yes," said Susan.

"Good, good," said Harry. "I need to make sure Hogwarts and Beauxbatons have judges now that Dumbledore and Maxime are in auror custody."

"You're - serious; aren't you?" asked Daphne, as she snuggled up to his side.

"Oh, yes," replied Harry.

"We've got time. Can we stop by, for a minute, and see Hermione?" asked Hannah.

"Sure!" replied Harry. "But then we've got to get down to the judges' stand as quick as possible."

The group picked up their pace and hurried to the infirmary. While there, Harry told Neville to expect a summons by Professor Sprout as she had something important to ask of him. But, he wouldn't elucidate.

_‗_  
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\""/

After a quick visit to ensure Hermione was still alright - she was - the group hurried out to the stands. The champions were already at the edge of the lake on a pier with who appeared to be Ludo Bagman.

After sending his friends into the stands, Harry hurried over to the judges' table to confirm the required number of judges was, in fact, in place. He saw Percy Weasley, subbing for Mister Crouch; a vacant chair for Ludo Bagman; Igor Karkaroff; a woman he recognised as one of the staff for Beauxbatons; and Professor Flitwick, subbing for Dumbledore. He gave Professor Flitwick a wave before turning to head into the stands.

Before he took more than a couple of steps, a tall aristocratic man stepped forward from the VIP section. "_Seigneur_ Pot-air; a werd, if I may?"

"Sir?" asked Harry.

"_Seigneur_ Pot-air, I am Jean-Paul Delacour. I..." he said, before he was interrupted by the amplified voice of Ludo Bagman.

"Sonorus!" Bagman's voice boomed out across the dark water of the lake toward the stands. "Well, all our champions are ready for the second task, which will start on my whistle. They have precisely an hour to recover what has been taken from them. On the count of three, then. One . . . two . . . " *Phhwweee!*

Krum dived into the water as Diggory and Fleur Delacour cast Bubblehead Charms on themselves before following suit.

"Oh!" said Harry, after the three champions had entered the water. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir. I believe you are the father of Fleur and Gabrielle, _n'êtes-vous pas_?"

"_Oui_," replied Monsieur Delacour. "I believe I have you to thank for saving the life of _mon plus jeune fille_ - my little daughter - this morning."

"_Non_," replied Harry. "I merely forced and initiated the situation where Dumbledore had to recover her, and two others, from the bottom of the lake where, it turns out, they were in the process of freezing to death.

"While, yes, it could be considered I saved her life; it could only be considered that at the most extreme of the definition. If it was anyone, it would be Madam Bones and Poppy Pomfrey who - took a more overt - role in saving her life."

"Steel, it was yerr initial act of - defying - your 'Eadmast-air, that led to 'er being removed from the lake," insisted the man.

Harry sighed and said, "True, Sir. However, I was, at the time, only interested in seeing the return of my Protectee, Lady Hermione. It was through the recovery of _her_, I figured out there had to be two others _also_ sitting at the bottom of the lake. By then, Madam Bones, Head of the DMLE, had arrived and ordered Dumbledore to recover the other two.

"We did not know one of them was your youngest until they were portkeyed directly from the surface of the lake to the infirmary, and myself and Lord Greengrass were able to ask her for her identity. Really, it was more a - logical progression of events - that led to your youngest being saved. I'm just pleased she's, apparently, alright."

With a small smile, Delacour said, "Steel - while I can see you are a _homme modeste_ - eet eez, as a result of your initial action, that my youngest is steel - with us. I am in your debt, _Seigneur_ Pot-air."

Harry blanched and said, "This isn't one of those - life debt - situations, is it, Sir? I _really_ don't want another of those."

Delacour smiled and said, "_Non_. But eet eez steel a debt, nevertheless."

"I can't absolve you of it, can I?" asked Harry, hoping he could.

With another smile, Delacour replied, "_Non_."

Harry sighed and held his hand out to shake, and said, "_Ministre_ Delacour, as Head of House Potter, I offer you my hand in friendship. And hope that such a debt can never come between friends."

Delacour, a little surprised, replied, "_Seigneur_ Pot-air, as _Chef de Famille Delacour_, I accept your hand offered in friendship, and ask you call me Jean-Paul." Then he took Harry's hand and shook it. He then grinned and said, "And, I choose to steel owe you that debt."

Harry chuckled and said, "Thank you, Jean-Paul. And, please, my friends call me Harry."

"'Arry," said Jean-Paul, releasing his grip. "Come. Please, allow me to introduce to you, my wife."

Harry followed Jean-Paul over to the seating for the VIPs, where Cygnus and Isabel were also sitting, and introduced him. "'Arry, this eez my wife, Lady Apolline Delacour. Pol, this eez Lord 'Arry Pot-air, 'Ead of House Pot-air - _Ami de Famille Delacour_."

Madam Delacour looked a little surprised as she offered her hand. Harry took it and lightly brushed his lips against the back of her fingers. "Lady Delacour - a pleasure. And, please, call me Harry."

With a glance to her husband, Lady Delacour said, "The plea-zure eez mine, 'Arry. And, please, you may call me Apolline - or Pol."

Harry gave her a slight bow as he released her hand. "Apolline is almost as beautiful a name as the Lady to whom it applies."

She gave him a genuine smile back and asked, "I belief eet eez you to whom we must give thanks for the life of our leetle Gabrielle, _non_?"

"I do not believe so, La - Apolline," replied Harry. "However your - _Epoux?_ - appears insistent I am."

"Then, fair be eet for _moi_ to - disagree - with _mon cher mari_," she replied. "Thank you, 'Arry, for saving my daught-air's life."

Harry knew he wasn't going to win this one, so decided an early capitulation was his best bet. He sighed and said, "You are most welcome, Apolline."

"Since we're in the mood for introductions," he said, glancing over at where Cygnus and Isabel were almost covertly watching him, "Has anyone had the honour, yet, of introducing you to Lord Cygnus and Lady Isabel Greengrass; the parents of my betrothed, Lady Daphne?"

"Not yet," said Jean-Paul.

With a nod, Harry gestured over Cygnus and Isabel. Looking to Jean-Paul and Apolline, he formally said, "Jean-Paul - Apolline - I have the honour of introducing to you, my friends, Lord Cygnus and Lady Isabel Greengrass of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Greengrass; and the parents of my betrothed, Lady Daphne.

"Cygnus - Isabel - I have the honour of introducing to you _Le Ministre de la Magie pour la France_, _Seigneur_ Jean-Paul Delacour, _Chef de Famille Delacour_, and his lovely wife, Lady Apolline Delacour." And he bowed to both pairs of adults.

After the four shook hands in the formal way, Harry cheekily said to Cygnus, "_Seigneur_ Delacour and I were discussing a suitable price for the island of Guernsey."

Cygnus goggled at him like a fish out of water before Jean-Paul roared with laughter. He slapped Harry on the back before he said, "_Doux Merlin_! That vas funny!"

Cygnus glared at Harry for a few moments, who was grinning unabashedly back, and trying not to smile. "I hope you realise, you just scared half the life out of me. I thought my heart was going to stop."

It wasn't long before Harry, Cygnus and Jean-Paul were chatting like old friends while Isabel and Apolline were the same. Harry excused himself and called Daphne down from where she was in the stands, watching him; and introduced her to the Delacours.

By the time the first of the competitors returned, Fleur, they were making plans for part of the summer together.

When Fleur came up she was near-hysterical she'd been unable to get to her sister. Harry heard something about grindylows, but that was it. However, a quick whispered word from Jean-Paul and she calmed down very quickly, looking back in shock. Fleur had many cuts on her face and arms and her robes were torn, but she didn't seem to care, nor would she allow Madam Pomfrey to come forward and clean them. Apolline and Isabel ushered her to the medical tent so she could be treated.

Next up was Cedric Diggory, towing the mannequin of Chang. And a few minutes later, Victor Krum came up towing the mannequin of Hermione. He was followed by a half dozen aurors wearing water-proof clothing.

Krum appeared disgusted he'd rescued nothing more than a mannequin, while Diggory thought it a great prank. The aurors headed over and huddled with the judges.

While they were waiting for the judges to make their decisions, Fleur came running out of the medical tent and headed directly for Harry.

"You saved 'er!" she cried, throwing her arms around Harry and planting a big kiss on both his cheeks. She backed off and said again, "You saved 'er!"

"Errr - yeah," said Harry, a bit sheepishly. "I kinda thought this idea was far safer. And, well..."

She leant in a kissed him on each cheek again, "Zhank you!"

Harry just blushed and felt Daphne cling more possessively to his arm.

Ludo Bagman's magically magnified voice boomed out from the judges table, making them all jump, and causing the crowd in the stands to go very quiet.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have reached our decision. The aurors, who were in the water to watch and keep the champions safe, have told us exactly what happened at the bottom of the lake. We have, therefore, decided to award marks out of fifty for each of the champions, as follows...

"Fleur Delacour, though she demonstrated excellent use of the Bubble-Head Charm, was attacked by grindylows as she approached her goal, and failed to retrieve her hostage. We award her twenty-five points."

Applause from the stands.

"I deserved zero," said Fleur throatily, shaking her head.

"Cedric Diggory, who also used the Bubble-Head Charm, was first to return with his hostage, though he returned one minute outside the time limit of an hour."

Enormous cheers from the Hufflepuffs in the crowd; Harry saw Cho, who had come down from the infirmary against Madam Pomfrey's orders, give Cedric a glowing look. "We therefore award him forty-seven points."

"Viktor Krum used an incomplete form of Transfiguration, which was nevertheless effective, and was second to return with his hostage. We award him forty points."

Karkaroff clapped particularly hard, looking very superior.

"The third and final task will take place at dusk on the 24th of June," continued Bagman. "The champions will be notified of what is coming precisely one month beforehand. Thank you all for your support of the champions.

"Good evening, be safe heading to wherever you're heading, and we'll see you for the final task. _Finite!_"

With that, people started filtering away from the stands and heading either back towards the castle and the Beauxbatons carriage, to the Durmstrang ship, or towards the main gates.

The Greengrasses and Delacours separated with promises to contact one another soon. The Greengrasses were heading for the main gates while the Delacours were heading for the infirmary so Fleur could see her little sister was quite safe. Harry and Daphne rejoined their friends and followed the Delacours.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning - the Sunday - Harry received an emergency summons to appear as a witness on the Monday at 10.00am in the trials of Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall and Olympe Maxime. Asking around, he also found out Hermione had received a summons, as did Cho Chang and Madam Pomfrey. He suspected so did young Gabrielle, for those at the castle.

Contacting his godfather by mirror, he also heard Cygnus and Isabel received summons, as did probably the elder Chos for the year senior Eurasian Ravenclaw. And he wondered if Jean-Paul and Apolline were also sent summonses to appear as witnesses.

He approached Professor Flitwick at lunch, who was sitting in his normal chair instead of at the right hand of the old man's, handed him the summons and said, "Professor, myself and a few others are going to have to appear in court tomorrow as we've been summonsed. As, I believe, Madam Pomfrey has also been summonsed, I'm sure she can act as escort for all of us."

"Do you know who else?" frowned the little professor.

"I know, Professor, that Miss Granger and Miss Cho from Hogwarts students have also been summonsed. I also suspect young Miss Gabrielle Delacour will also have been summonsed. However, I do not know what - arrangements - will be made for her, considering her apparent age."

The Professor nodded and said, "I shall talk with the Beauxbatons delegation and see if arrangements have been made to escort young Miss Delacour to the trial. If not, I'm sure Madam Pomfrey will be happy to escort you all.

"In the meantime, thank you for informing me, and I shall ensure the staff is aware of the four of you being outside of the school for tomorrow."

With a nod, Harry said, "Thank you, Professor." And joined his friends at table for lunch.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As expected, little Gabrielle did receive a summons to appear in court. And the Beauxbatons delegation was grateful to the Hogwarts staff for providing an escort for her, as they could not release one of their onboard teaching staff; already being down one.

The trials were being held in the full Wizengamot chamber in Level 10, so Harry led them straight there. As usual, Harry had to rant at the security guard about trying to keep his wand off him as he passed through.

Once in the main chamber Harry's party were escorted direct to the witnesses' antechamber where they'd be waiting until called. Isabel was already there, pacing. After a quick hug for his future mother-in-law, Harry ducked out and into the Members' chamber to see who else was in attendance. He quickly found Cygnus and Sirius and told them the Hogwarts' delegation had arrived and was in the witnesses' antechamber.

"Harry, I think you should don your Wizengamot robes for this," said Cygnus. "It'll subtly add credence to your testimony without you having to say a word."

Harry nodded and ducked through the Members' corridor, hurried along to his own office and ducked inside.

He removed his Hogwarts outer robes and donned his Wizengamot robes before heading back to the members' chamber. And returned to talk with Sirius and Cygnus.

"Better," said Sirius.

"Now," said Cygnus, getting Harry's attention. "They're starting straight up by having all three tried at the same time, because the - incidents - involved all three, together. This way you all only have to provide testimony once. They'll also be taking things in as chronological order as they can; so, Hermione, Miss Cho and young Miss Delacour will be providing their testimony before you."

Harry nodded and said, "Makes sense, I suppose."

"Your godfather will be sitting on the panel as an 'interested party'; but, as I've also been called as a witness, I'll be joining you in the witnesses' antechamber.

"I'm also led to understand Minister Delacour is also a witness, as Miss Delacour's father and primary guardian. And Apolline will be sitting in the visitors' gallery in the VIP section. As each witness is released, they'll be joining her."

"Who's the Presiding Judge?" asked Harry.

"Chief Witch Marchbanks has used her authority to judge this one, herself," replied Sirius. "The Minister tried to usurp her, but failed."

Harry nodded and said, "Then it shall be a fair trial, at least."

Cygnus glanced at the clock. "It's nearly time," he said.

Leaving Sirius behind, the two Lords, Harry and Cygnus, left the members' antechamber and crossed through to the witnesses' antechamber. There, they met and reconnected with Jean-Paul.

In order, Hermione, Chang and Gabrielle were quickly called in to give their testimonies. Then went Jean-Paul. Finally, it was Harry's turn.

He entered the main floor of the chamber and immediately ascended into the witness stand. Looking around, he saw Dumbledore, McGonagall and Maxime all sitting, side-by-side, in seats for the accused. Off to one side he saw two wizards dressed in business robes, and assumed them to be lawyers representing the accused. Master Auror Scrimgeour was acting as prosecutor and was standing facing Harry.

Once Harry gave his oath as a witness, the questioning began.

In as clear terms as possible Harry described the events of the day of the second task, starting with when he first realised Hermione was missing. They did not require his memories of the event but he was quite willing to provide them.

Once he reached the point where he left the infirmary they no longer needed him to recount. He received a few leading questions from the two defence counsel, but that was it.

Leaving the witness stand he joined the others in the visitors' gallery.

Lord Greengrass was next, confirming he was Hermione's guardian. Then, came the aurors who accompanied Aunt Amelia, and finally Madam Pomfrey and the healer auror.

With the final testimony, the panel retired to debate. Harry led the others through to the Potter offices where they had a quick meal provided by his house elves, Callie and Ninny.

After an hour, Sirius came through and told them the panel had reached a decision. They returned to the visitors' gallery.

Just after they finished taking seat, the panel and other members of the Wizengamot re-entered and took seat within the tiers.

Chief Witch Marchbanks entered with Aunt Amelia and took seat. As soon as she sat, she gave the verdict.

Dumbledore was stripped of his position as Headmaster and dismissed as staff of Hogwarts for actions contrary to his position. He was found guilty of the kidnapping of the three girls, but was found that it was not for malicious purposes as he truly meant no harm to befall the three.

Luckily for him, he was not sent through the veil. However, Harry could see losing the position of Headmaster clearly 'gutted' him. He was also banned from ever being allowed to teach, whether in a school or as a master to an apprentice, ever again.

He was allowed to return to Hogwarts the next day to collect his personal effects, but had to be out of the castle and grounds by the end of the school day.

Dumbledore tried to say he had to remain at Hogwarts for the safety of the school and it's students but was silenced. His request was quashed.

Professor McGonagall was found to have used poor judgement in assisting Dumbledore in the commission of the crimes. That poor judgement also saw her stripped of her position as Deputy Headmistress and as a Head of a Hogwarts' House. However, she was allowed to continue to teach at Hogwarts if that was her wish. The professor hung her head as tears fell.

Headmistress Maxime was also found guilty of using poor judgement in assisting Dumbledore. However, as she did not fall under the direct authority of Dumbledore, her punishment meant a formal recommendation was being sent to the School Board of Beauxbatons to have her stripped of her authority as Headmistress, at minimum; or to be completely dismissed from school staff, at worst.

Further, she might expect further charges to be laid against her from the French Ministry regarding young Miss Delacour as the daughter of the French Minister of Magic. Madam Maxime was allowed to return to the Beauxbatons carriage at Hogwarts only to collect her personal effects and was ordered to leave magical Britain immediately. She would be met by French aurors and taken back to France.

On returning to school, it appeared the news of the findings of the court had beaten them back. They discovered Snape had handed in his immediate resignation; a resignation immediately - almost gleefully - accepted by Professor Sprout.

That now left the school needing to find a Potions Master or Mistress as a matter of urgency. Professor McGonagall claimed the school was the only home she had, so she'd remain as the Professor of Transfiguration. The DADA Professor, retired auror Professor Duncan, would not be renewing his tenure at the end of the school year. And Professor Sprout said she wanted to return to her beloved greenhouses as Professor of Herbology but, if needed, would Act as Deputy Headmistress.

During an emergency meeting of the School Board of Governors that evening, Professors Sprout and Flitwick found their acting positions switched and made semi-permanent; at least, until the end of the school year. Their tenures in those positions would then be reviewed towards permanency. However, it also meant they needed a new Charms Master for the Professor of Charms slot.

According to Gran, who had a seat on the School Board, there was a significant portion of the Board who were completely against the idea of a half-goblin as Headmaster; but, thankfully, they remained, for the moment, in the minority.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. Harry had sent Hedwig to Sirius with a letter and turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half her feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius's reply when she took flight, clearly afraid she was going to be sent outside again. She only took one piece of bacon with her, kindly offered by Daphne.

The new Head of Gryffindor House was Professor Vector, the new Head of Ravenclaw House was Professor Babbling, and the new Head of Slytherin House was Professor Sinistra. Though she was now also Deputy Headmistress, Professor Sprout also chose to remain as Head of Hufflepuff House. That made all four Heads of Houses, witches.

At lunch on Friday, the 5th of March, they were approached by Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson.

All of them were looking at something Harry couldn't see and sniggering heartily. Parkinson's pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's broad back at the Eight as they approached.

"There they are, there they are!" she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. Harry saw that Parkinson had a magazine in her hands - Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Parkinson said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled.

Hermione hastily rifled through the magazine. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what they were looking for. Harry and the others leaned in closer. A colour photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:

_**Harry Potter's Secret Heartache**_

_A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss._

_Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."_

_However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest._

_"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."_

_Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Headmaster Filius Flitwick will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate._

The article completely ignored the fact that Harry was betrothed to Daphne. And that it had been public for well over three years.

Harry looked up at Parkinson, who was looking back a little gleefully, and said, "Miss Parkinson, please inform your father he will soon be contacted by my lawyer, Mister Dewey Skroohem, within the next couple of days, concerning your unlawful defamation of character, libel, of Lady Hermione. As you are his current heir, I'm holding him responsible for your actions. He can pay up - whatever it is Mister Skroohem asks of him - or face my champion on the duelling piste. With this level of character assassination I think I'm well within my rights for the duel to be to the death. Good day to you."

Parkinson went white in shock before her eyes started to fill with tears. Her bottom lip started to tremble and she suddenly spun about and ran from the Great Hall. Malfoy glared at Harry before he dashed out after Parkinson - Goyle and Crabbe hurried to follow.

"Well," said Harry. "It appears Miss Skeeter has gone back to work for Witch Weekly after she was fired from the Daily Prophet. It's a pity - for her - she doesn't realise the ban on writing stories about me also includes Witch Weekly."

"And, when did you and I break up, Harry?" asked Daphne. "Even Skeeter knows that's not possible."

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. She was shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at the others. "If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," she said, still giggling, as she threw the magazine onto the table top before her. "What a pile of old rubbish."

She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave.

"There's something funny, though," said Hermione ten minutes later. "How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"

"Known what?" asked Tracey, quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, before she sighed and said, "Sorry, no. It's just - how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer? No one else was in range to hear."

Hermione blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided everyone's eyes.

"What?" asked Susan, suddenly staring in shock at Hermione.

"He asked me right after he paid me a visit in the infirmary after he pulled my doppelgänger doll out of the lake," Hermione muttered. "He sort of pulled me away from the others so they wouldn't hear, and he asked, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to..."

"And what did you say?" asked Tracey, eagerly.

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, going so red now that Harry could almost feel the heat coming from her. "But, how could Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there - or was she? Maybe she's got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task..."

"And what did you say?" Tracey eagerly repeated.

"I said - I would think about it and let him know," she blushed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	72. Witch Weekly

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Two - Witch Weekly**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next day was a Hogsmeade day. Harry and Daphne left the castle at noon to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time they arrived in Hogsmeade, both of them had taken off their cloaks and thrown them over their shoulders.

They went into Gladrags Wizardwear to buy presents for their friends, where they had fun selecting the most lurid socks they could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars. Daphne called him over with the look on her face that told Harry she was up to something wicked.

She then showed him a matching pair of crotchless knickers and a bra with the nipple area uncovered. She whispered in his ear, "Wearing these means I won't have to take them off for you when we - play."

Harry felt his blood suddenly fill places that made it uncomfortable for him to walk, as his breath quickened and his pulse surged a bit. A bit flushed, he nodded back. He hoped she wasn't kidding. He _really_ hoped she wanted to buy them. Merlin, he'd buy them for her, anyway.

With a giggle she rehung them on the rack. Harry's heart sank as he watched them returned. He didn't know Daphne was watching his expressions very carefully and how it amused her, greatly. Coyly, she looked at him before her fingers drifted over the various items. Suddenly, her hand reached in and drew a pair of the same style in Slytherin green with silver filigree. "I think these ones will do," she said, adding them to the small pile of socks they were buying.

Harry's heart soared again. He was so happy, he allowed her to drag him over to the wizardswear section and modelled for her a couple of outfits she'd selected. By the time they returned to the counter, where Harry used his ring to make the purchase, he'd completely forgotten what she'd made him model. He didn't even see the look the sales clerk gave them both. Nor the scathing, threatening look Daphne gave her back.

As they exited the store, Daphne said, "I think we need to have lunch. After that - well - I have an idea..."

With his mind still on the erotic underwear now residing in the package in Daphne's pocket, Harry didn't ask about her idea. It just slid on by.

After a long lunch in the Three Broomsticks, Daphne suggested, "I think we should go and visit our cave. Just to make sure the wood is still there, you know?"

Harry rapidly nodded his head and practically dragged Daphne up the street and into the foothills beyond. He barely heard her giggling behind him at his driven eagerness.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On Monday morning the group were sitting at the Gryffindor table.

Harry was looking up at the owls as they flew in for their morning delivery. "Hey, Hermione, I think you're in luck..."

A gray owl was soaring down toward Hermione.

"I don't recognise the owl," she said, looking disappointed. "It's..."

But to her bewilderment, the gray owl landed in front of her plate, closely followed by four barn owls, a brown owl, and a tawny.

"How many people want to write to you?" asked Harry, seizing Hermione's goblet before it was knocked over by the cluster of owls, all of whom were jostling close to her, trying to deliver their own letter first.

"What on earth...?" Hermione mused aloud, taking the letter from the gray owl, opening it, and starting to read. "Oh really!" she sputtered, going rather red.

"What's up?" asked Ron Weasley, from down the table a little.

"It's - oh, how ridiculous..."

She thrust the letter at Harry, who saw that it was not handwritten, but composed from pasted letters that seemed to have been cut out of the Daily Prophet.

YOU ARE A WICKED GIRL. HARRY POTTER DESERVES BETTER. GO BACK WHERE YOU CAME FROM MUGGLE.

"They're all like it!" said Hermione desperately, opening one letter after another.

"Hermione! Stop!" barked Harry, grabbing both her hands in his. His ring was flashing away, as was hers.

Finally noticing what was going on, Hermione gasped and stopped trying to free the owls of their loads. She glanced fearfully at Harry who was glaring back. "You _know_ the protocols! _Stop_ being an idiot!"

Hermione bit her bottom lip with her eyes getting moist before she nodded, ashamed. When Harry finally released her hands, she pulled them back.

Using his ring and his wand casting detection charms, Harry scanned the mail. With a frown he said, "The one you were about to open is loaded with a very strong poison."

"_Everybody back!_" he called, rising. "_Tainted mail!_"

Professors Flitwick and Sprout hurried forward.

"Professors, please keep the owls here with the mail still attached to them. We may be able to determine..."

As they all - including nearby Gryffindors - backed away from the table, leaving the owls and mail sitting there, one of the Slytherins laughed.

Harry spun about and stormed over to the table. His magic was at full power with his rage.

"_Mister Potter!_" barked Headmaster Flitwick, pulling Harry up short. "I'll deal with the miscreant in a moment."

Harry stood there with magic swirling around him. It was enough to cause loose mail on other tables to be caught up in the swirling winds. What he didn't know was Neville had come up beside him. He, too, had his magic moving about him. In Neville's case, it was little displays of lightning, like Headmaster Flitwick had during the issue around Luna. The lightning was cracking and arcing off him and into the floor and the air. If anything, it looked more powerful than Harry.

For both boys, Harry's green eyes were glowing a luminescent green, while Neville's blue eyes were glowing a luminescent blue. Those at the Slytherin table sat perfectly still. No one moved even a twitch at the display of raw power coming off both boys ready to unleash on all of them if they so much as _appeared_ to be threatening.

Harry said in a low growl to the whole Slytherin table, but nevertheless heard by all, "What you _fuckwits_ fail to realise, is _that_ was an unprovoked attack on the Head of a Noble and Ancient House. The person - or persons - who sent it, or anything else harmful, may very well not be alive to see another sunset.

"That person - or persons - may be _your_ mother or father. It is my responsibility, and _right_ as per the old ways, to deal with them. I stand ready - right now - to take their very life. Are _you_ ready to grieve for them?"

None responded.

Hesitating for a few long moments, Harry and Neville continued to glare at the Slytherin table before Harry turned away and allowed his magic to settle. He walked back over to the two Professors as Neville followed.

"Are the aurors on their way?" he asked.

"Yes, my Lord," replied Susan in a clear voice. "My message patronus was immediately sent. We expect them momentarily."

"A patronus message was also sent to Lady Hermione's magical guardian; my Lord Greengrass," said Daphne. "I expect him momentarily, also."

Harry nodded and looked to the Headmaster. In a clear voice he said, "_Please_ tell me there's only one person I, or Lord Greengrass, is going to have to see _killed_ today, Professor."

Hesitating a moment, Headmaster Flitwick said in an ominous voice, "There is only one item within that lot that is rigged to cause harm, _Lord_ Potter. It contains undiluted bubotuber pus. It has the same hallmarks as the package sent to Lady Daphne during your first year."

As Harry had almost forcefully requested, all the owls were right where they were. They appeared to be under the effects of a Total Petrification Charm. One was even still holding its leg out waiting for its letter package to be removed.

Headmaster Flitwick then walked over to the Slytherin table and said, "Alright. Who showed the poor judgment by laughing at the attempted serious harm of a student?"

None replied.

"In that case, ten points from Slytherin for each ten seconds I have to wait. That's ten points right now," he said.

None still replied. "That's another ten points from Slytherin. I'm still waiting."

With an embarrassed expression one of the second years, Thaddeus Harper, slowly raised his hand.

"Was it you, Mister Harper?" asked the Headmaster.

"Yes, Professor," the boy quietly replied.

"You think it's funny that someone nearly came to serious harm?" asked the Headmaster. "You think it's funny that, because it was an attempt upon a Head of a Noble and Ancient House, the person who sent that package may very well _die_ within the next couple of hours?"

Clearly ashamed, the boy meekly replied, "No - Professor. I didn't think it would come to that."

"Hmm," Headmaster Flitwick huffed. "A further fifty points against Slytherin for your foolishness. And one week's detention with Mister Filch."

He then returned to near the table with the others.

A couple minutes later, Madam Bones came striding into the room with a couple of aurors. "Where?" she barked.

Nearly everyone pointed to the middle of the Gryffindor table where the Eight had sat.

All three moved to the area and started casting over the owls and mail.

"One," said one of the aurors. He then pointed at one of the barn owls and said, "That one. It has undiluted bubotuber pus and a deactivated minor Expulsion Charm. It would be enough to have the pus spray over the hands of the person who opened the package."

Lord Greengrass came striding into the room and headed straight over. "How many?" he asked, looking at the entire mess.

"Just one harmful one," said Aunt Amelia, reading some of the other mail. "At least, only one that could cause physical harm to a person. It was a bubotuber pus laden message triggered to force out the pus as the letter was opened."

Cygnus snarled and said, "I want the identity of the sender."

"As do I, Lord Greengrass," said Harry.

Cygnus stared at Harry for a moment before he said, "You're Lady Hermione's Protector, Lord Potter; however, _I'm_ her magical guardian. I claim the greater right."

Harry huffed and angrily grumbled, but gave a short, sharp nod in recognition.

When Aunt Amelia, reluctantly, gave the identity of the person who sent the 'pus bomb' - based on the identity of the owl - Cygnus turned to Harry and said, "I'll be back." And strode from the room.

Harry nearly did it - very nearly - he really had to bite his tongue. He was just glad he was still very angry over the attempt at harm on Hermione and the laughter from Slytherin. And used that to ensure he didn't as much as smile. Cygnus - going to terminate someone - using the classic line from the movie 'Terminator'.

Harry, Daphne and Tracey decided to skive off Transfiguration. Daphne, because he father was heading into a duel; Harry and Tracey to support, respectively, their betrothed and best friend. Instead of heading elsewhere, the three elected to remain in the Great Hall. Harry wanted to be there when Cygnus returned - _if_ he returned.

He did; about three quarters of an hour later. He had a tear on his right sleeve on his upper arm and what appeared as burn paste on the skin under it. He came over and sat at the table opposite Harry. Daphne immediately hugged him in relief.

"Well, you'll be pleased to know, surging your magic makes your casting far more powerful, and significantly speeds up your reaction time," he sighed.

"We knew that," said Tracey. "How is Missus Guffy?"

"In Saint Mungos," replied Cygnus. "So, no; I didn't kill her. However, I made sure it was public enough that word will soon rapidly spread that, to target me or mine, will see a swift and brutal retaliation. One of the things I did to her was pour undiluted bubotuber pus over both her hands."

Harry thought about that for a few moments before he firmly nodded and said, "Good. Better some idiot be severely hurt now, than another is killed later."

"My thoughts, exactly," replied Cygnus.

"You know this was all a result of that _bloody article_ Skeeter wrote for Witch Weekly, don't you?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I do," he replied. "I've already let Dewey know what happened - and why - so I expect he's already at the offices of Witch Weekly as we speak.

"The fact you own a significant portion of the magazine, now gives him a huge stick to beat them with."

Harry looked up in surprise. "I do?" he asked.

Cygnus looked stunned for a few moments before he chuckled and replied, "You really didn't know, did you? The Daily Prophet business, of which you've been steadily acquiring shares, owns The Daily Prophet newspaper, Witch Weekly and Teen Witch Weekly."

Harry groaned and started banging his forehead on the tabletop in front of him. Daphne and Tracey started madly laughing.

Cygnus, confused, asked, "What's going on?"

"Harry _hates_ Teen Witch Weekly," giggled Daphne. "He thinks it's an evil publication and should be destroyed, just on principle."

"Well, he owns majority shareholdership in it now," said Cygnus. "If that's what he wants to do, he can."

"No, he really _can't_," laughed Tracey.

Harry sighed, lifted his head and looked at Cygnus, "If I close it down, the young witches here will hunt me down and roast my nads, for it."

Surprised, Cygnus thought about that for a bit and smiled. "Yeah, I guess they would, at that."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the week, Harry wrote an article for 'the evil publication' that, once published, just about had the young witches of magical Britain ready to find out who the owner was and - as he suspected - barbeque his bits off.

_**Owner Considers Closing TWW Down**_

_Due to the sheer number of false and biased reporting occurring within the offices of the entire Daily Prophet organisation, of which this publication is just one arm, the owner is considering closing TWW down._

_"I believe the problem of reporting lies, half-truths and slander as truth is so bad within the entire organisation it may simply be best to shut the who thing down and rebuild it from scratch with entirely new staff," said the owner._

_"Quite frankly, I've more than had enough of it. The problem is so widespread across the organisation I fear the only way to save it is to sack the entire staff and bring in new staff from overseas. I want staff who understand terms like honesty, integrity, and professionalism and will check their facts before publishing; and employ them in their work, publishing TWW._

_"If the situation is not greatly improved within the next couple of issues there will be no further issues until new staff is brought in to restart publishing. The very first staff to find their jobs getting the chop will be the senior editorial staff and the journalists."_

_We, the staff, promise the owner we will 'lift our game' and improve your favourite publication, making it better than ever. In line with the wishes of the owner, we are employing specialist staff whose only job will be to fact check each and every article before publication._

_I'm sure you, our loyal readers, wish us the best in accomplishing this major and rapid turnabout in editorial policies. And return TWW to a publication you can trust._

It was not as if he actually _had_ shut the publication down, he just threatened it. And he used Teen Witch Weekly as a threat to the Daily Prophet telling them he would be moving on to them next.

'Hormonal witches be crazy!' he thought.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, Dewey sent a missive to Harry informing him Skeeter had been sacked on the spot from all Daily Prophet publications; as had the senior editor for allowing a clearly defamatory and false article to be published.

He then used his own authority to elevate the assistant senior editor into the slot as senior editor and warned her that her head was now on the chopping block. One libellous article and she, too, would be gone.

Harry signed the documentation Dewey sent him 'rubber stamping' the lawyer's actions. And included a letter informing the man he had the authority to take other such action in future, if Dewey thought it was warranted. Though he did not include it in the letter, Harry was grateful he had a legal boffin in his corner who wasn't afraid to take such steps when he felt they were necessary.

Hate mail continued to arrive for Hermione over the following week. And although she followed the group's advice and stopped opening it, several of her ill-wishers sent Howlers, which exploded at table and began shrieking insults at her for the whole Hall to hear. Those lasted only long enough for Harry or one of the others to incinerate them with a Fire Curse.

For each every item they could identify who the sender was, the group wrote them back in Harry's name reminding each and every one of them Hermione was not, in fact, a muggleborn, but was actually the Head of a Noble and Ancient House. Each response was liberally included with unveiled threats of severe harm to both themselves and their houses should they not immediately send a heartfelt and genuine apology.

Even those people who didn't read Witch Weekly knew all about the supposed Harry-Krum-Hermione triangle now. Harry was getting sick of telling people that Hermione wasn't his girlfriend, but his Protectee; and that his betrothal to Daphne was still intact.

"It'll die down, though," he told Hermione, "Magicals seem to have very short attention spans."

"I want to know how she listened into private conversations when she's supposed to be banned from the grounds!" said Hermione angrily.

Hermione hung back in her next Defence Against the Dark Arts lesson to ask Professor Duncan something. The rest of the class was very eager to leave as the Professor had given them such a rigorous test of hex-deflection that many of them were nursing small injuries. Neville had such a bad case of Twitchy Ears, he had to hold his hands clamped over them as he walked away from the class.

"Well, Rita's definitely not using an Invisibility Cloak!" Hermione panted five minutes later, running in to the Great Hall and plomping herself down at the Gryffindor table with those of the group who had already arrived. "Professor Duncan says Aunt Amelia's monocle is charmed to automatically reveal someone using an invisibility cloak and she would have seen her."

"Hermione, is there any point in telling you to drop this?" said Ron Weasley. The boy had been making every effort to improve his disposition since his stay in the infirmary.

"No!" said Hermione stubbornly. "I want to know how she heard me talking to Viktor! And how she found out about Hagrid's mum!"

"Maybe she had you bugged," said Harry.

"Bugged?" asked Hannah. "What - put fleas on her or something?"

Harry started explaining about hidden microphones and recording equipment. Hannah was fascinated, but Hermione interrupted them.

"Harry! Hogwarts: A History, remember?" asked Hermione.

"Oh, yeah," replied Harry. "You can't use them in Hogwarts. They'd fry."

"All those substitutes for magic Muggles use - electricity, computers, and radar, and all those things - they all go haywire around Hogwarts, there's too much magic in the air. No, Rita's using magic to eavesdrop, she must be," said Hermione firmly. "If I could just find out what it is - ooh, if it's illegal, I'll have her..."

"Skeeter's _gone_, Hermione," said Harry. "Do you really want to start a vendetta against her?"

"I'm not asking you to help!" Hermione snapped. "I'll do it on my own! And, just because she's no longer employed by the Daily Prophet organisation, does not mean she's not going to get a job working for an overseas publication as their witch-on-the-spot in Magical Britain!"

"She's got a point, you know," said Daphne.

Harry sighed and said, "Yeah, she does." Turning to Hermione, he sheepishly said, "Sorry, Hermione. You're absolutely correct."

Hermione just harrumphed but she signalled she'd accepted the apology.

Leading up to the days before the Easter holidays, Hermione continued with her side project of working out how Skeeter had managed to overhear her conversation. Harry frankly marvelled at how she could research magical methods of eavesdropping, as well as everything else they had to do.

Harry had also been given the day of the wedding as Saturday, 7th of August, and suffered a mild bout of hyperventilation. Daphne then 'ordered' him to start looking for a best man and two groomsmen.

"Why not just a best man?" asked Harry. "After all, Neville's the obvious choice there."

"Because, I have a maid of honour and two bridesmaids," replied Daphne as if talking to a small child. "So, you need a best man and two groomsmen."

"Fine," grumbled Harry. "I'd like Neville as my best man. I think I could also ask Sirius and Remus to be groomsmen."

"That won't work," she said. "Tracey will be my maid of honour. I'm also thinking of asking Hermione and Astoria to be my two bridesmaids. While Neville could easily match Tracey, Uncle Sirius and Remus won't match with the other two girls."

"Fine," he grumbled again. "Then I'll have Sirius as the Master of Ceremonies for the reception, and as Father of the Groom. We'll have to figure something out for Remus, though."

Suddenly thinking, Harry asked, "When's the full moon around then?"

Daphne smirked and replied, "Not for another three days. We already checked."

"Oh," said Harry, a little relieved.

"Don't worry, Harry," she soothed him. "It's been worked out. It needs to be after your birthday so you'll be fifteen. That's only one year before you would come of age in Scotland, so there's less chance of people complaining about you being married too early.

"It also needs to be on a weekend because there are too many people who need to be invited who work business hours. So, that leaves us with the 31st July and 1st August, 7th and 8th of August, 14th and 15th of August, 21st and 22nd of August, and the 28th and 29th of August.

"We want to have at least two weeks of a honeymoon before we have to return for our OWL year, so that scratches off the 21st, 22nd, 28th and 29th of August. The 14th and 15th of August are only a few days after the full moon. So, Remus won't be at his best.

"That leaves us with your birthday, and the 1st, 7th and 8th of August. And we picked the 7th of August because it's far enough away from your birthday not to be confused with it, and because seven is a magical number."

Harry sighed and said, "Logically deduced. I should have realised, myself."

Daphne just smiled and kissed him on the forehead. "You would have. Eventually."

So now Harry had to find two groomsmen of suitable ages the partner Hermione and Astoria. And find a worthy task for Remus.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When she arrived, it was quickly discovered the new Potions Mistress, Professor Dinwaddy, was another cranky sort. However, she didn't have an overt bias towards Slytherin House. Harry wondered along with his friends whether or not it was something to do with all the potion's fumes that made a Potions Master or Mistress 'crotchety'.

The new Charms Master was just as fun-loving as Headmaster Flitwick - Professor Wilberforce Wiblin. Again, Harry wondered if it had something to do with the constant use of charms that made him that way. In his introduction during the evening meal, on the man's first night at the castle, Headmaster Flitwick said he was a long time friend and colleague.

As the weeks began to flow by, the Eight really knuckled down to their studies. The two new professors were marvels at their work and they heard little complaints from most students about the standard of teaching. The only complaints came from the Slytherins, who were slow to learn that attempts at sabotaging the cauldrons of the Gryffindors very quickly landed them in long detentions and the loss of many house points. And, the Gryffindors, who no longer had a Head of House who was willing to turn a blind eye to their own shenanigans.

Professor Dinwaddy did not believe that a mere five points for bad behaviour in her class was sufficient. 'Potions are dangerous,' she'd said. She preferred to start at twenty points for normal bad behaviour. An attempt at sabotage earned the person an immediate 'T' for the day, a loss of fifty house points, and a minimum of two weeks detention.

Malfoy's 'When my _father_ hears of this...' had him almost bodily picked up and thrown out of the classroom by the scruff of his neck; to go with his fifty points for attempted sabotage, fifty points for his not-so-subtle threat towards a professor, four weeks detention, and 'T' for the day.

"Open your mouth like that again, Mister Malfoy," she snarled at him. "I'll expect your _father_'s second to call on me within the week. And, tell him to have his Will updated. He will _not_ be walking off the piste." Then she slammed the door in his face. It was the last time Malfoy made that claim to her again.

Though Professor Dinwaddy was very strict, she was also a brilliant teacher. Those who had been struggling for the past four years - or even longer - suddenly found a new lease of life in the potions classroom and the quality of potions leapt forward with it. Even those who previously hated the subject suddenly found new enjoyment in the potions laboratory.

March flowed into April and April, passing the Easter break, flowed into May. As the end of May approached the entire extended group were heavily studying. Hermione was urging everyone on but, thankfully, everyone was very comfortable now with her driven nature. They just let her words flow them by.

On the 24th of May, Harry watched as Diggory and the other two champions were led down to the Quidditch pitch. He discretely followed and went up into the tribunes to look down. There, he saw the whole pitch surface had been transfigured into what looked like a large maze.

'Bastards,' he thought. 'They've ruined a perfectly good Quidditch pitch for what will only be a single evening's entertainment.'

With a sigh, he descended to the ground and hurried to catch up to Diggory.

"Can you believe what they've done to the pitch?" he asked the other boy, appalled.

With his own frown of consternation, Diggory replied, "No. They could have put it anywhere on the bloody grounds and they _had_ to choose the pitch, didn't they? It's sacrilege!"

"So, what's the task?" asked Harry.

"It's a maze, obviously," the other boy replied. "The Cup will be placed in the centre of the maze. We each enter at a time based on our current score. The first one to reach the Cup, wins it."

"That doesn't sound that difficult," said Harry. "I suspect there'll be further obstacles within to slow you down some."

Diggory nodded and said, "Yeah, that's what I figure."

"Just remember, Ced," said Harry, as the other boy was about to depart. "You only have to get _past_ the obstacles, not defeat them. Sometimes, your best choice is to run away."

Diggory smiled back and said, "That's actually good advice. Thanks, Harry."

Harry smiled back and said, "You're most welcome." And gave a slight bow.

The boys parted, with Harry heading for their Room. There were still assignments needing completing, and studying for their end-of-year exams to undertake.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With spring starting to finally return to Hogwarts, the snow was clearing away leaving the students with the occasional warm day. More and more students were trekking down to the 'desecrated' Quidditch pitch to watch the hedges grow. Some of the more adventurous, especially the Hufflepuffs, seemed to be doing their best to map it all out.

Harry smiled as even _he_ could figure out that the hedges were magical. Neville also deduced that the hedging could move, closing off some passages and opening up new ones.

However, the tribunes, on the warmer days, also made a nice place to study outdoors. The stands were high enough you were off the ground and free of the still seeping cold coming off the large patches of snow still about. And provided protection from the elements from at least one direction; from behind the stand.

"Do you think we'll ever get our Quidditch pitch back?" asked a voice to Harry's right.

Turning, he saw it was Miles Bletchley; an avid Quidditch fan a couple of years above Harry.

"Yeah," said Harry. "The hedge, when finished, will have only been growing for about six or seven weeks. It'll only take them a couple of days to cut it all down, rip up the roots and get the grass growing again."

"This is my last year," said the other boy, quietly. "I had hoped, this year, I'd get a chance to play Quidditch for my House team." He sighed and said, "That's not going to happen now."

"No," Harry replied just as quietly. "And - I'm sorry you never got the chance."

The other boy looked up in surprise for a few moments before he ducked his head down, nodded and moved back to the stairs.

Harry was surprised to actually feel sorry for the older Slytherin boy.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Stupidly, Harry thought, the final task was right in the middle of the exam period. Even then, it was quite late in the year. Harry wondered why they just didn't have the exams at the normal time and left the last week as the final task. As it was, they weren't returning to London until the 3rd of July. That was two weeks later than normal.

However, they were still starting the next year on the 1st of September. That meant they'd be losing two weeks of the summer holidays because some idiot didn't schedule things the right way.

Once they hit revision time Harry forgot that they should have been going home that very weekend. As with the others, he was working hard to remain on, or very near the top, in all his classes. He was also using the training dummies more and more. He felt the strenuous exercise was allowing him to tire out enough each evening to get to sleep. Always, in the back of his mind, he was thinking of the rapidly approaching wedding - _his_ wedding.

When the final week fell upon them the Eight worked diligently and hard. Harry was seriously thinking of blowing off the final task to study with his friends. However, after what happened to Hermione in the second task, the Eight also cast Tracking Charms on each other. They'd go just to support Diggory.

They were just heading down to the tribunes after a hasty dinner to watch the final task, when Hermione noticed a beetle sitting on one of Daphne's hair clips; one of the ones Harry bought her a couple years ago.

Pulling a sheet of parchment out of her ever-present bookbag, Hermione configured it into a jar with a screw on lid. She punctured a few holes through the lid before allowing her wand to return to her holster.

Without even letting Daphne know she was doing it, Hermione reached up with the jar and lid in each hand and snagged the beetle within. As she quickly screwed the lid down tight, and the beetle tried desperately to get out, she grinned at it.

When what she felt, felt like Hermione was playing with her hairclip, Daphne spun around and exclaimed, "Hey!"

With a look of outright glee on her face, Hermione held up the jar and said, "Hey, folks. Say hello to Rita Skeeter in her unregistered animagus form of a water beetle!"

Harry quickly cast an Unbreakable Charm on the jar and lid before looking directly at Hermione. "Are you sure?" he asked.

"Oh, yes!" exclaimed a very happy Hermione. "This is how she's been able to listen in on private conversations. She merely rests within their hair or on their clothing. She then memorizes what they say, and writes about that.

"This is how she was able to listen in when Victor invited me to Bulgaria for the summer. This is how she's able to dig up so much trash on people."

With an evil grin, Harry said, "Well, as far as I'm concerned, you've not caught an illegal animagus, you've caught an ordinary water beetle in a magically unbreakable jar. Of course, as it's just an ordinary water beetle, no one's going to say boo if you just decided to crush it between your fingers."

That made the beetle try frantically to get out.

Neville, realising what Harry was saying, chipped in with his own. "I could always take it home and feed it to my toad, Trevor. Trevor loves to munch on beetles."

With a grin of her own, Hermione said, "Nah. I think I'll keep it in this jar until I decide what I'm going to do with it. But, it shouldn't worry too much. I know what water beetles love to eat and I'll be sure to keep it well fed with its favourite diet of mosquito larvae."

The others just laughed as Hermione dropped the jar into her bookbag.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	73. Reborn Horror

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**AN:** Prepare yourselves. This is where it gets down and dirty.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Three - Reborn Horror**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As the group was approaching the stairs into the tribunes, where they'd agreed to meet up with their loved ones, Harry was looking around to see if he could spot them. He expected to see Sirius, the Greengrasses, the Davises, the Abbotts, Amelia Bones, Gran and Xenophilius Lovegood; with the only family missing of their group being the Grangers and Remus. It _was_ a full moon. Harry had also been told that the Delacours would be joining their group as a guest of 'Lord Greengrass and party'.

The third task would soon begin but there was a bottleneck waiting to ascend into the tribunes, anyway. It appeared many other students had the same idea of using the stairs as the place to meet up with loved ones who were lucky enough to be able to acquire seating.

"Damn!" muttered Harry. "I should have brought a broom."

"Anyone seen them?" asked Tracey.

With quite a few more verbal head shakes, the group stood back and scanned with their eyes.

"There they are!" said Hannah, indicating the direction with her raised arm and pointing finger.

Everyone looked in the same direction to see, first, Sirius come striding over with a huge grin on his face. The others tailed along behind.

"Mister Potter," Harry heard someone say from nearby.

He turned and saw Barty Crouch Senior standing there holding something by a covered handle that was under a small black blanket.

Surprised to see the man standing there, Harry said, "Mister Crouch? Aren't you supposed to be..."

While Harry was talking, Crouch raised whatever he was holding and whipped the blanket off it. Harry had only a moment to recognise the Tri-Wizard Cup before it was forcefully shoved into his chest. Instinctively, he raised his hands to grab it.

With the recognisable tug at his bellybutton, Harry disappeared in the swirl of a portkey.

Neville had enough time to exclaim, "What the..."

Crouch raised his wand, pointing it at the sky, and roared, "MORSMORDRE!"

The girls screamed as the Dark Mark was fired into the sky, and began to crouch. Sirius roared and charged the man, who was still standing there with his wand elevated and a blank expression on his face.

Sirius tackled Crouch and pinned him to the ground, immediately and physically disarming the older man.

Changing position to crouch over his target, Sirius looked down into the blank face with its slightly milky eyes of Barty Crouch Senior. Turning to Amelia, who had also come running forward, he snarled, "It's Crouch! He's been Imperiused!"

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry felt his feet slam into the ground and he fell forward as his hands finally released the Tri-Wizard Cup. Cursing under his breath he raised his head to try and figure out where the portkey had taken him.

'Where am I?' he thought, as he climbed back onto his feet. Instinctively, he popped his wand out of its holster and into his hand.

He had left the Hogwarts grounds completely, that much was clear from the start. Looking around, he realised he'd obviously travelled miles - perhaps, hundreds of miles - for even the mountains surrounding the castle were gone. He was standing, instead, in a dark and overgrown graveyard with the black outline of a small church visible beyond a large yew tree to his right. A hill rose above him to his left. Harry could just make out the outline of a fine old house on the hillside.

'A bloody auto-portkey', thought Harry. 'And one that obviously went right through the Hogwarts wards; so, Flitwick must've created it.' He was looking around the graveyard. It was completely silent and slightly eerie.

Harry kept looking around him. He had the strange feeling he was being watched. Quickly, to get away from where the portkey landed him, Harry ducked down low and scooted through the headstones. He was just thankful a cloud obscured the moon and he had only starlight to guide him. At least it meant it would be very difficult for him to be seen - until the cloud moved out of the way.

Squinting tensely through the darkness, he watched a figure drawing nearer to where he first arrived, walking steadily between the graves. Harry couldn't make out a face from his almost side on view. But, from the way it was walking and holding its arms, he could tell that it was carrying something. Whoever it was, he was short, and wearing a hooded cloak pulled up over his head to obscure his face.

Several paces nearer with the gap closing all the time, Harry saw that the thing in the person's arms looked like a baby - or was it merely a bundle of robes?

Harry lowered his wand slightly, trying to get a better look through the headstones.

The figure stopped beside a towering marble headstone of what looked like a winged angel of death with a scythe; a huge headstone Harry had dashed past to get away from the portkey arrival point. For a second, Harry thought he'd been seen, as he and the short figure seemed to simply look at one another. But he wasn't, when the robed man turned back to scan the area of the arrival point.

Harry suddenly felt his communication mirror in his pocket vibrate and turn warm. Startled, he hadn't realised he'd made a slight sound as he ducked down behind the headstone that was his hiding place. Turning his back to the robed man so the light from the mirror wouldn't be seen, he fished the mirror out of his pocket and flipped it open.

He whispered into the mirror, "Padfoot," and quickly held his finger to his lips as the image on the mirror resolved into the worried face of his godfather.

He could see Sirius about to say something but held his tongue at the universal gesture for silence he saw on his alarmed godson's face.

Harry whispered, "Use Daphne's..." when his world suddenly went black.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Sirius felt a huge sigh of relief when his mirror call to his godson was answered. He was about to demand where Harry thought he was when he saw the gesture of the raised, vertical finger on his godson's face, and held his tongue.

Turning to the others he quickly shushed them before turning back to the mirror.

He watched as Harry moved his mouth close to the mirror. Drawing closer himself, he thought he heard Harry say, "Use Daphne's..." when he saw the red flash of what appeared to be a Stupefying Charm hit him. However, the sheer amount of panicked noise around him made it difficult to hear. At Harry's end the mirror was immediately dropped. The connection was still active; however, Sirius couldn't see a thing.

Keeping the mirror open, Sirius dropped it into his pocket and turned to Aunt Amelia.

"Wherever that portkey took him, Harry's just been hit by a Stunner," he said. "I couldn't get much of anything out of him about where he was before he was hit. All I got was 'use Daphne's'."

He, and the other adults, were all standing apart from the teens. Daphne was crying with the others all standing around in shock at what had happened and were trying to comfort her.

Around them was pandemonium. Amelia had already called her aurors in to support the small contingent present for the task. But, those were already trying to get control of the situation among the near-stampeding spectators.

Thankfully, one of the aurors had already banished the Dark Mark from the skies.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry came around and found himself tied to a solid stone object by Incarcerous ropes. The little fat man was standing in front of him with his hood now drawn back. It was Peter Pettigrew.

"_You!_" snarled Harry. "Pettigrew, you traitorous fucking _arsehole_!"

Pettigrew just smirked at him and said, "Now, now, Potter. Special effort was made to get you here. You're here to assist in, and witness the rebirth of, the Dark Lord. You should feel honoured." However, the smirk was wasted by the look of terror in Pettigrew's eyes.

"Fuck you, Pettigrew!" snarled Harry, from within his bonds.

Pettigrew, busy checking the tightness of the cords, did not further respond. Once sure Harry was bound so tightly to the headstone he couldn't move an inch, he turned from Harry and hurried away.

Harry couldn't see where the rat had gone - he couldn't turn his head to see beyond the headstone - he could see only what was right in front of him.

Some way beyond, glinting in the starlight, lay the Tri-Wizard Cup; with the bundle of robes that Harry had thought was a baby was close by, at the foot of the grave. The baby seemed to be stirring fretfully. Harry watched it. Suddenly, he knew that he didn't want to see what was in those robes - he didn't want that bundle opened.

He could hear noises at his feet. He looked down and saw a gigantic snake slithering through the grass, circling the headstone where he was tied.

Pettigrew's fast, wheezy breathing was growing louder again. It sounded as though he was forcing something heavy across the ground. Then he came back within Harry's range of vision, and he saw him pushing a stone cauldron to the foot of the grave. It was full of what seemed to be water - Harry could hear it slopping around. It was larger than any cauldron Harry had ever used; a great stone belly large enough for a full-grown man to sit within.

The thing inside the bundle of robes on the ground was stirring more persistently, as though it was trying to free itself. And Pettigrew was busying himself at the bottom of the cauldron with a wand. Suddenly, there were crackling flames beneath it. The large snake slithered away into the darkness.

The liquid in the cauldron seemed to heat very fast. The surface began not only to bubble, but to send out fiery sparks, as though it were on fire. Steam was thickening, blurring the outline of Pettigrew tending the fire. The movements beneath the robes became more agitated. And Harry heard the high, cold voice again.

"Hurry!" demanded a cold, high pitched voice, emanating from the bundle at the foot of the grave.

The whole surface of the water was alight with sparks now. It might have been encrusted with diamonds.

"It is ready, Master," Pettigrew's voice said, now beginning to sound quite afraid.

"Now..." said the cold voice.

Pettigrew pulled open the robes on the ground, revealing what was inside them, and Harry let out a gasp.

It was as though Pettigrew had flipped over a stone and revealed something ugly, slimy, and blind - but worse; a hundred times worse. The thing Pettigrew had been carrying had the shape of a crouched human child, except that Harry had never seen anything less like a child. It was hairless and scaly-looking, a dark, raw, reddish black. Its arms and legs were thin and feeble, and its face - no child alive ever had a face like that - flat and snakelike, with gleaming red eyes.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"The rings!" Hermione suddenly exclaimed. "Use Daphne's _ring_!"

"Hermione?" queried Amelia, looking over at the teens from where she was brainstorming ideas with the adults. "What?"

Hermione hurried over and said, "That's what he was trying to say! Use Daphne's _ring_!"

"Or, Daphne's Tracking Charm," said Tracey, also calming down enough to remember. "Daphne tagged Harry with a Tracking Charm!"

The adults moved back across to and around the teens.

"Wait, the range of the ring is pretty local," said Cygnus. "It won't work unless he's close by."

"What about the Tracking Charms?" asked Hannah.

"It'll only give us direction," said Sirius.

"Then triangulate!" Hermione said firmly.

"Tri-what?" asked Amelia.

"Triangulate," said Hermione; her brain working out the solution. "We need to get outside the school wards; and I need a map and compass. I need to get to my parent's home! There, I'll have a map and compass we can use to find him."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The thing in Pettigrew's arms seemed almost helpless. When Pettigrew bent over, it raised its thin arms, put them around the rat's neck, and was lifted. As he did so, Harry saw the look of revulsion on Pettigrew's weak, pale face in the firelight as he carried the creature to the rim of the cauldron.

For one moment, Harry saw the evil, flat face illuminated in the sparks dancing on the surface of the potion. Then Pettigrew lowered the creature into the cauldron. There was a hiss, and it vanished below the surface. Harry heard its frail body hit the bottom with a soft thud.

'Drown, you wanker!' thought Harry.

Pettigrew was speaking. His voice shook; and he now seemed frightened beyond his wits. He raised his wand, closed his eyes, and spoke to the night. "Bone of the father, unknowingly given, you will renew your son!"

The surface of the grave at Harry's feet cracked. Horrified and furious at the same time, Harry watched as a fine trickle of dust rose into the air at Pettigrew's command and fell softly into the cauldron. The diamond surface of the water broke and hissed. It sent sparks in all directions and turned a vivid, poisonous-looking blue.

Though half scared out of his wits, Harry carefully listened.

And now Pettigrew was whimpering. He pulled a long, thin, shining silver dagger from inside his cloak. His voice broke into petrified sobs. "Flesh - of the servant - w-willingly given - you will - revive - your master."

Harry's eyes widened in recognition. It was a ritual - one chanted in English.

Quickly, he made a decision. He drew in some of his magic. Not too much, in case it was seen, but enough to add power to his words. He whispered, "Flesh of the servant, reluctantly given, you will weaken your master."

Pettigrew did not appear to have heard him as he stretched his right hand out in front of him - the hand with the missing finger. He gripped the dagger very tightly in his left hand and swung it upward.

Harry realized what Pettigrew was about to do a second before it happened. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could, but he could not block the scream that pierced the night, that went through Harry as though he had been stabbed with the knife, too.

He heard something fall to the ground, heard Pettigrew's anguished panting, then a sickening splash, as something was dropped into the cauldron. Harry could barely stand to look as the potion turned a burning red.

Pettigrew was gasping and moaning with agony as he moved over to where Harry was firmly tied to the grave monument. Clearly, Harry was about to lose something to the cauldron. He steeled himself for what was to come.

"B-blood of the enemy - forcibly taken - you will - resurrect your foe."

Harry could do nothing to prevent it as he was tied too tightly. 'Forcibly taken?' he thought.

He saw the shining silver dagger shaking in Pettigrew's remaining hand as it was raised. A quick slashing motion and Harry's sleeve was cut open at the elbow.

He watched as the point of the knife was brought up again. While cradling the stump of his right hand, Pettigrew continued to moan.

Steeling himself Harry willed the knife cut and whispered, "Blood of the enemy, willingly given, you will weaken your foe."

He felt the knife point penetrate the crook of his right arm and blood seeping down the sleeve of his torn robes. Pettigrew, still panting with pain, rumbled in his pocket for a glass vial and held it to Harry's cut, so that a dribble of blood fell into it.

Feeling better safe than sorry, Harry whispered the incantation once more, adding as much power into it as could and hoping Pettigrew didn't notice.

Pettigrew staggered back to the cauldron with Harry's blood. He poured it inside. The liquid within turned, instantly, a blinding white.

Pettigrew, his job done, dropped to his knees beside the cauldron, then slumped sideways and lay on the ground, cradling the bleeding stump of his arm, gasping and sobbing.

The cauldron was simmering, sending its diamond sparks in all directions, so blindingly bright that it turned all else to velvety blackness. Nothing happened.

'Let it have drowned,' Harry thought. 'Let it have gone wrong.'

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The floo in the Leaky Cauldron roared to life. Out stepped Hermione, followed by Amelia.

Hermione quickly moved over to one of the tables and unfolded a map of the British Isles she picked up from her parent's place.

Amelia watched as Hermione quickly oriented the map using the compass. "Magnetic North is..." quickly finding it, she pointed the finger of her off hand. "That way."

Turning to look over her shoulder, Amelia called, "Daphne!"

Daphne came forward, her face still blotchy from crying, but she now had a look of strength and determination on her face.

Looking at the girl, Amelia kindly said, "We need a direction, love."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back in the graveyard, suddenly, the sparks emanating from the cauldron were extinguished. A surge of white steam billowed thickly from the cauldron, obliterating everything in front of Harry, so that he couldn't see Pettigrew or anything but vapour hanging in the air. 'It's gone wrong,' he thought. 'It's drowned. We got all the horcruxes. Please - _please_ - let it be dead.'

But then, through the mist in front of him, he saw, with an icy surge of terror, the dark outline of a man, tall and skeletally thin, rising slowly from inside the cauldron.

"Robe me," said the high, cold voice from behind the steam, and Pettigrew, sobbing and moaning - still cradling his mutilated arm - scrambled to pick up the black bundle from the ground. They were robes. He got to his feet, reached up, and pulled them one-handed over his master's head.

The thin man stepped out of the cauldron, staring at Harry. And Harry stared back into the face that had haunted his nightmares for years. Whiter than a skull, with wide, livid scarlet eyes and a nose that was flat as a snakes with slits for nostrils.

Voldemort - Tom Riddle - had risen again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"Up and inland from Newcastle!" exclaimed Amelia. Spinning about she looked over the crowded room and called, "Quickly! Who here knows of a wizarding place west of Newcastle!"

One of the aurors called back, "I do!" He came walking forward. "There's a pub - favourite of mine - near there."

"Create a portkey for us all," Amelia commanded. Indicating the point on the map where the two lines intersected, she said, "The closer we can get to that point, the better."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Riddle - Voldemort - looked away from Harry and began examining his own body. His hands were like large, pale spiders; his long white fingers caressed his own chest, his arms, and his face. The red eyes - whose pupils were slits, like a cat's - gleamed still more brightly through the darkness. He held up his hands and flexed the fingers, his expression rapt and exultant. He took not the slightest notice of Pettigrew, who laid twitching and bleeding on the ground, nor of the great snake, which had slithered back into sight and was circling Harry again, hissing.

Riddle slipped one of those unnaturally long-fingered hands into a deep pocket and drew out a wand. He caressed it gently too; and then he raised it. He pointed it at Pettigrew, who was lifted off the ground and thrown against the headstone where Harry was tied. He fell to the foot of it and lay there, crumpled up and crying. Riddle turned his scarlet eyes back upon Harry; laughing a high, cold, mirthless laugh.

Harry glared back.

Pettigrew's robes were shining with blood, now. He had wrapped the stump of his arm in them.

"My Lord..." he choked, "my Lord - you promised - you did promise..."

"Hold out your arm," said Riddle lazily.

"Oh Master - thank you, Master..."

He extended the bleeding stump, but Riddle laughed again. "The _other_ arm, Wormtail."

"Master, please - please..."

Riddle bent down and pulled out Pettigrew's left arm, and forced the sleeve of the rat's robes up past his elbow.

Harry saw something upon the skin there, something like a vivid red tattoo - a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth - the image that had appeared in the sky at the Quidditch World Cup - the Dark Mark.

Riddle examined it carefully, ignoring Pettigrew's uncontrollable weeping.

"It is back," he said softly, "they will _all_ have noticed it - and now, we shall see - now, we shall know..."

He pressed his long white forefinger to the mark on Pettigrew's arm, and the rat let out a fresh howl. Riddle removed his fingers from Pettigrew's mark, and Harry saw it had turned jet black.

With a look of cruel satisfaction on his face, Riddle straightened up, threw back his head, and stared around at the dark graveyard.

"How many will be brave enough to return when they feel it?" he whispered, his gleaming red eyes fixed upon the stars. "And how many will be foolish enough to stay away?" He began to pace up and down before Harry and Pettigrew; eyes sweeping the graveyard all the while.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With no table around at the location they'd just portkeyed to, Hermione dug out the map she was using. Using the compass, once more, she quickly oriented it to Magnetic North.

"Daphne!" she called.

"Here!" replied Daphne, quickly moving forward. The blonde quickly accessed her end of the Tracking Charm and indicated the direction. "That way!"

Hermione stepped forward and got the bearing.

She returned to the map and drew a new line. "_Hangleton!_" she cried out. "It's within the Kielder Forest Park area."

The same auror as before stepped forward and said, "That's only a few miles north-east of here."

Amelia said, "Right! It's getting dark enough. Unless anyone knows the - Hangleton - area, I want a couple of people skilled in line of sight apparation. Go ridge line to ridge line." Turning to Hermione and Daphne she asked, "Are you two up to rapid but short apparation hops?"

"We _have_ to be," replied Daphne, to which Hermione nodded.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a minute or so, Riddle looked down at Harry again; a cruel smile twisting his snakelike face.

"You stand, Harry Potter, upon the remains of my late father," he hissed softly. "A Muggle and a fool - very like your dear mother. But, they both had their uses, did they not? Your mother died to defend you as a child - and I killed my father. See how useful he has proved himself, in death..."

"Well, seeing as Pettigrew said something about the 'bones of the father', I kind of figured that out for myself," sneered Harry, ignoring the comment about his mother.

Riddle laughed again. Up and down he paced, looking all around him as he walked, and the snake continued to circle in the grass.

"You see that house upon the hillside, Potter? My father lived there. My mother, a witch who lived here in this village, fell in love with him. But he abandoned her when she told him what she was. He didn't like magic, my father...

"He left her and returned to his Muggle parents before I was even born, Potter. And she died giving birth to me, leaving me to be raised in a Muggle orphanage - but I vowed to find him - I revenged myself upon him, that fool who gave me his name - Tom Riddle."

"He didn't, actually," said Harry. "It was your mother who gave you that name. It's likely he didn't even know you were born."

Still Riddle paced; his red eyes darting from grave to grave.

"Listen to me, reliving family history..." he said quietly, ignoring Harry's comment. "Why, I'm growing quite sentimental."

The air was suddenly full of the swishing of cloaks.

"But look, Harry! My true family returns..."

Between graves, behind the yew tree, in every shadowy space, wizards were Apparating. All of them were hooded and masked. And one by one they moved forward - slowly, cautiously, as though they could hardly believe their eyes.

Riddle stood in silence, waiting for them. Then one of the masked morons fell to his knees, crawled toward Riddle, and kissed the hem of his black robes.

"Master - Master," he murmured.

If Harry wasn't so scared near out of his wits, he'd laugh.

The masked morons behind him did the same; each of them approaching Riddle on his knees and kissing his robes, before backing away and standing up, forming a silent circle. A circle which enclosed Tom Riddle's grave, Harry, Riddle, and the sobbing and twitching heap that was Pettigrew. Yet, they left gaps in the circle, as though waiting for more people.

Riddle, however, did not seem to expect more. He looked around at the masked morons; and, though, there was no wind, a rustling seemed to run around the circle, as though it had shivered.

"Welcome, Death Eaters," said Riddle quietly. "Thirteen years - thirteen years since last we met. Yet, you answer my call as though it were yesterday. We are still united under the Dark Mark, then! Or are we?"

He put back his terrible face and sniffed, his slit-like nostrils widening.

"I smell guilt," he said. "There is a stench of guilt upon the air."

A second shiver ran around the circle, as though each member of it longed, but did not dare to, step back from him.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

They'd _found_ him!

Looking down upon the scene before them, the collection of adults - plus, Hermione and Daphne - could see Harry tied to a grave marker with his arms out as if crucified. A winged angel of death with its scythe over his head.

But the important point was that he was still alive. They could see him talking to - Riddle. Voldemort had been resurrected.

Daphne heard the gasps of the aurors and other adults as they looked down up the scene only a few hundred yards from them. Voldemort had somehow been resurrected. And he was surrounded by what appeared to be his faithful - Death Eaters.

"We can't move on them until we can get Harry free," said Sirius. "If we move too soon, they'll kill him, immediately."

"They won't kill him," said Cygnus. "Voldemort will want to do it himself; by his own hand. He's still following the prophecy."

"Yet, we can still move into place," said Amelia. "And I can call in reinforcements." She pulled out her badge and tapped it, thrice.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	74. Phoenix Cage

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Four - Phoenix Cage**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"I see you all, whole and healthy, with your powers intact," declared Riddle to those around him. "Such prompt appearances! And I ask myself - why did this band of wizards never come to the aid of their master, to whom they swore eternal loyalty?"

No one spoke. No one moved except Pettigrew; who was upon the ground, still sobbing over his bleeding arm.

"And I answer myself," whispered Riddle, "they must have believed me broken - they thought I was gone. They slipped back among my enemies, and they pleaded innocence, and ignorance, and bewitchment...

"And then I ask myself; but, how could they have believed I would not rise again? _They_, who knew the steps I took, long ago, to guard myself against mortal death? _They_, who had seen proof of the immensity of my power in the times when I was mightier than any wizard living?

"And I answer myself; perhaps they believed a still greater power could exist; one that could vanquish even Lord Voldemort - perhaps they now pay allegiance to another - perhaps that champion of commoners, of mudbloods and muggles, Albus Dumbledore?"

At the mention of Dumbledore's name, the members of the circle stirred, and some muttered and shook their heads. Riddle ignored them. "It is a disappointment to me - I confess myself disappointed..."

One of the morons suddenly flung himself forward, breaking the circle. Trembling from head to foot, he collapsed at Riddle's feet.

"Master!" he shrieked, "Master, forgive me! Forgive us all!"

Riddle began to laugh. He raised his wand. "_Crucio!_"

The masked moron on the ground writhed and shrieked. Harry was sure the sound must carry to the houses around. 'Let the police come,' he thought, desperately. 'Anyone - anything...'

Riddle raised his wand. The tortured masked moron lay flat upon the ground, gasping.

"Get up, Avery," Riddle said softly. "Stand up! - You ask for forgiveness? I do not forgive. I do not forget. Thirteen _long_ years - I want thirteen years' repayment, before I forgive you. Wormtail, here, has paid some of his debt already; have you not, Wormtail?"

He looked down at Wormtail, who continued to sob.

"You returned to me, not out of loyalty, but out of fear of your old friends. You deserve this pain, Wormtail. You know that, don't you?"

"Yes, Master," moaned Wormtail, "Please, Master - please..."

"Yet you helped return me to my body," Riddle said coolly, watching Pettigrew sob on the ground. "Worthless and traitorous as you are, you helped me - and Lord Voldemort rewards his helpers..."

Riddle raised his wand again and whirled it through the air. A streak of what looked like molten silver hung shining in the wand's wake. Momentarily shapeless, it writhed and then formed itself into a gleaming replica of a human hand, bright as moonlight; which soared downward and fixed itself upon Pettigrew's bleeding wrist.

Voldemort looked confused, for a moment. He held his wand in his hand before him and peered down at it, intently.

Pettigrew's sobbing stopped, abruptly. His breathing harsh and ragged, he raised his head and stared in disbelief at the silver hand, now attached seamlessly to his arm, as though he were wearing a dazzling glove. He flexed the shining fingers; then, trembling, picked up a small twig on the ground and crushed it into powder.

"My Lord," he whispered. "Master - it is beautiful - Thank you - thank you..." He scrambled forward on his knees and kissed the hem of Riddle's robes.

"May your loyalty never waver again, Pettigrew," sneered Riddle, down at the rat, coming back from his thoughts.

"No, my Lord - never, my Lord..." Pettigrew stood up and took his place in the circle, staring at his powerful new hand, his face still shining with tears.

Riddle now approached the man on Pettigrew's right.

"Lucius, my slippery friend," he whispered, halting before him. "I am told that you have not renounced the old ways, though to the world you present a respectable face. You are still ready to take the lead in a spot of muggle-torture, I believe? Yet you never tried to find me, Lucius - Your exploits at the Quidditch World Cup were fun, I daresay - but might not your energies have been better directed toward finding and aiding your master?"

"My Lord, I was constantly on the alert," came Lucius Malfoy's voice swiftly from beneath the hood. "Had there been any sign from you, any whisper of your whereabouts, I would have been at your side immediately, nothing could have prevented me..."

Harry could see movement around the outer edges of the graveyard. His eyes widened when he realised what it meant. The cavalry had arrived!

Thinking furiously, he looked at the masked form of Malfoy. He called, "Hey, Lucy! Is that you?"

All eyes, including Riddle's, turned to him.

"I thought you were still going with the '_I was Imperiused_' claim!" said Harry.

"_Never_!" barked back Malfoy. "Those fools in the Wizengamot - especially, Dumbledore and Fudge..."

"And yet you ran from my Mark, when a faithful Death Eater sent it into the sky last summer?" asked Riddle lazily turning back with a smirk. Malfoy stopped talking abruptly. "Yes, I know all about that, Lucius - You have disappointed me - I expect more faithful service in the future."

"Of course, my Lord, of course - You are merciful, thank you..."

"Awww! C'mon, Lucy!" snarked Harry. "Try it again. '_I was Imperiused_!'"

"_Shut up_, you insolent whelp!" snarled Malfoy. "You _cannot_ take my Lord's mark while under _any_ form of compulsion. I took the mark of my Lord _willingly!_ As did we _all!_"

Riddle moved on, amused at the by-play. He stopped, staring at the space - large enough for two people - that separated Malfoy and the next man.

"The Lestranges should stand here," said Riddle quietly. "But they are entombed in Azkaban. They were faithful. They went to Azkaban rather than renounce me - When Azkaban is broken open, the Lestranges will be honoured beyond their dreams.

"The dementors will join us - they are our natural allies - we will recall the banished giants - I shall have all my devoted servants returned to me, and an army of creatures whom all fear..."

He walked on. Some of the masked morons he passed in silence; but, he paused before others and spoke to them. "MacNair - destroying dangerous beasts for the Ministry of Magic now, Wormtail tells me? You shall have better victims than that soon, MacNair. Lord Voldemort will provide..."

"Thank you, Master - thank you," murmured MacNair.

"And, here," Riddle moved on to the two largest hooded figures, "we have Crabbe - you will do better this time, will you not, Crabbe? And you, Goyle?"

They bowed clumsily, muttering dully.

"Yes, Master..."

"We will, Master..."

"Hey, it's Malfoy's butt-buddies!" exclaimed Harry. "Tell me, gents, do you arse-fuck Malfoy; like your sons do Malfoy Junior?"

"Why, you little _shit!_" growled Malfoy, raising his wand.

Riddle spun on him and raised his hand. Malfoy stopped, lowered his wand and bowed his head.

"Now, Lucius," smirked Riddle. "Mister Potter is our guest. He holds a place of honour - being as he was integral to my resurrection."

"Yes, my Lord," said Malfoy. "I - apologise, my Lord."

Riddle lowered his hand and turned back to the next masked moron in the circle. "The same goes for you, Nott," he said quietly, as he walked past a stooped figure in Goyle's shadow.

"My Lord, I prostrate myself before you; I am your most faithful..."

"That will do," said Riddle.

He had reached the largest gap of all, and he stood surveying it with his blank, red eyes, as though he could see people standing there. "And here we have six missing Death Eaters - three dead in my service. One, too cowardly to return - he will pay. One, who I believe has left me forever - he will be killed, of course - and one, who remains my most faithful servant, and who has already re-entered my service."

The masked morons stirred; and Harry saw their eyes dart sideways at one another through their masks.

"He is at Hogwarts, that faithful servant, and it was through his efforts that our young friend arrived here tonight...

"Yes," said Riddle; a grin curling his lipless mouth as the eyes of the circle flashed in Harry's direction. "Harry Potter has kindly joined us for my rebirthing party. One might go so far as to call him my _guest_ of honour."

There was a silence. Then Malfoy's voice spoke from under the mask. "Master, we crave to know - we beg you to tell us - how you have achieved this - this miracle - how you managed to return to us..."

"Ah, what a story it is, Lucius," said Riddle. "And it begins - and ends - with my young friend here."

He walked lazily over to stand next to Harry, so that the eyes of the whole circle were upon the two of them. The snake continued to circle.

"You know, of course, that they have called this boy my downfall?" Riddle said softly, his red eyes upon Harry. "You all know that on the night I lost my powers and my body, I tried to kill him. His mother died in the attempt to save him - and unwittingly provided him with a protection I admit I had not foreseen - I could not touch the boy."

Riddle raised one of his long white fingers and put it very close to Harry's cheek. "His mother left upon him the traces of her sacrifice - This is old magic, I should have remembered it, I was foolish to overlook it - But, no matter. I can touch him now."

Harry felt the cold tip of a long white finger touch him in the middle of his forehead. Riddle laughed softly in his ear, then took the finger away and continued addressing the masked morons.

"I miscalculated, my friends - I admit it. My curse was deflected by the woman's foolish sacrifice, and it rebounded upon myself. Aaah - pain beyond pain, my friends; nothing could have prepared me for it.

"I was ripped from my body; I was less than spirit; less than the meanest ghost - But, still, I was alive. What I was, even I do not know - I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. You know my goal - to conquer death. And now, I was tested.

"And it appeared that one or more of my experiments had worked - For, I had not been killed, though the curse should have done it. Nevertheless, I was as powerless as the weakest creature alive, and without the means to help myself - for I had no body, and every spell that might have helped me required the use of a wand...

"I remember only forcing myself, sleeplessly, endlessly, second by second, to exist - I settled in a faraway place, in a forest, and I waited - Surely, one of my faithful Death Eaters would try and find me - one of them would come and perform the magic I could not, to restore me to a body - But, I waited in vain..."

The shiver ran once more around the circle of listening masked morons.

Riddle let the silence spiral horribly before continuing. "Only one power remained to me. I could possess the bodies of others. But, I dared not go where other humans were plentiful, for I knew that the Aurors were still abroad and searching for me."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As Riddle continued his monologue - of describing how he came to be resurrected - the family and friends of Harry, together with the aurors and called in Unspeakables, slowly moved into position.

Aunt Amelia and Uncle Algie huddled together not far from the site. Both, horrified by what they were seeing. Both, waiting for the opportune moment. Meanwhile, both taking careful note of what they were hearing.

That comment by Malfoy about how the Dark Mark could not be taken while under any form of compulsion, would see him and his - friends - incarcerated for the rest of their lives; _if_, he managed to live through this.

They listened on to what Riddle was relating to them all.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"... A potion concocted from unicorn blood, and the snake venom Nagini provided - I was soon returned to an almost human form, and strong enough to travel," continued Riddle.

"There was no hope of stealing the Philosopher's Stone anymore, for I knew that Dumbledore would have seen to it that it was destroyed. But, I was willing to embrace mortal life again, before chasing immortality. I set my sights lower - I would settle for my old body back again, and my old strength.

"I knew that to achieve this - it is an old piece of dark magic, the potion that revived me tonight - I would need three powerful ingredients. Well, one of them was already at hand, was it not, Wormtail? Flesh given by a servant?

"My father's bone, naturally, meant that we would have to come here, where he was buried..."

"So, you're finally admitting to your masked morons you're actually a half-blood, are you?" interrupted Harry. "Son of the muggle, Tom Riddle; from whom your birth name derives?"

Riddle spun about and glared at Harry.

"Don't look at me, like that, Tom," smirked Harry. "_You're_ the one who just admitted the truth of your birth."

With an evil smirk, Riddle said, "Yes, Harry. I had my choices, that fateful night. I could have gone after you or the Longbottom spawn. I chose you, because you are a half-blood, just like me. The difference, of course, is that I am the Heir of Salazar Slytherin - while you are the Heir of Godric Gryffindor. I found that, too, quite fitting."

Turning back to his now quite shaken followers, Riddle seemed not to notice the little glances they were sending each other. However, Harry did.

"Were," said Harry.

'Take that, you wankers,' he thought. 'You bow and grovel at the feet of a half-blood.'

"Pardon, Harry?" asked Riddle.

"Were," replied Harry, again. "You died, Tom - though you do not recognise that, magic _does_. You died. Therefore, the Heirship passes on. These idiots, around you, know that. The Heirship passes on to the next."

"But the blood of a foe," Riddle continued, ignoring Harry's remarks. Harry though it was because he had no comeback. "Wormtail would have had me use any wizard, would you not, Wormtail? Any wizard who had hated me - as so many of them still do. But I knew the one I must use, if I was to rise again, more powerful than I had been when I had fallen. I wanted Harry Potter's blood. I wanted the blood of the one who had stripped me of power thirteen years ago - for the lingering protection his mother once gave him would then reside in my veins, too...

"But how to get at Harry Potter? For he has been better protected than I think even he knows. Protected in ways devised by Dumbledore long ago - when it fell to him to arrange the boy's future. Dumbledore invoked an ancient magic to ensure the boy's protection, as long as he is in his relations' care. Not even I can touch him there..."

Harry's eyes widened at the implications of that. It meant his relatives - no matter how much he hated them, they were still family - were in danger.

"So how could I take him? Why, use my Death Eater I had stationed at Hogwarts today - that he touch the Tri-Wizard Cup first - the cup which had been configured into a Portkey, and which my faithful would alter to bring him here, beyond the reach of Hogwarts's help and protection, and into my waiting arms. And here he is - the boy you all believed had been my downfall..."

Riddle moved slowly forward and turned to face Harry. He raised his wand. "_Crucio!_"

It was pain, but not beyond anything Harry had ever experienced. He felt as if his very bones were on fire; his eyes were rolling madly in his head; he wanted it to end, but he could survive it.

And then it was gone. He was hanging limply in the ropes binding him to the headstone of Riddle's father, looking up into those bright red eyes through a kind of mist. The night was ringing with the sound of the masked morons' laughter.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

From where he was crouched behind a headstone, not far away, Cygnus had to grab and hold tight to Sirius. Sirius was ready to dash out right there and then.

"Not now," whispered Cygnus, pleading quietly. "Soon. Soon, I promise."

As the Curse was lifted, Sirius settled down again. He just quietly growled. The grim within him ready to rip and tear Riddle to shreds.

Neither of them realised the scene was being played out in a similar manner around the graveyard by the rescuers.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"_Fuck_, that _hurt_!" said Harry, hanging in his now slightly looser bindings. He thought, 'I hope that was a sign of how weak he really is. I'd hate to see what it felt like if he was at full power.'

He watched as Riddle, again, looked down at the wand in his hand; what looked like a slight frown marring his snake-like features.

Gathering himself, he continued, "You see, I think, how foolish it was to suppose that this boy could ever have been stronger than me - But, I want there to be no mistake in anybody's mind. Harry Potter escaped me by a lucky chance. And, I am now going to prove my power by killing him - here and now - in front of you all - when there is no Dumbledore to help him, and no mother to die for him.

"I will give him his chance. He will be allowed to fight, and you will be left in no doubt which of us is the stronger." He looked down at the snake, again moving about the tombstone. "Just a little longer, Nagini," he whispered, and the snake glided away through the grass to where the masked morons stood watching. "Now untie him, Wormtail, and give him back his wand."

Pettigrew approached Harry, who scrambled to find his feet, to support his own weight before the ropes were untied. Pettigrew raised his new silver hand. And then, with one swipe, cut through the bonds tying Harry to the gravestone.

There was a split second, perhaps, when Harry might have considered running for it, but his legs shook under him as he stood on the overgrown grave. The masked morons closed ranks, forming a tighter circle around him and Riddle, so that the gaps where the missing morons should have stood, were filled.

Pettigrew thrust Harry's wand roughly into his hand without looking at him. Harry didn't even realise he'd not had it. Then Pettigrew resumed his place in the circle of watching morons.

"You have been taught how to duel, Harry Potter?" Riddle asked softly, his red eyes glinting through the darkness.

At these words Harry remembered, as though from a former life, the duelling Flitwick had run him through. He remembered the Disarming Spell, _Expelliarmus_, was actually a powerful spell in that it immediately removed the ability of most enemies to cast. But, what use would it be to deprive Voldemort of his wand? Even if he could, when he was surrounded by his morons and outnumbered by at least thirty to one?

"Yes," Harry simply replied.

He had never learned anything that could possibly fit him for this. He knew he was facing the thing against which Moody - Crouch - had always warned - the unblockable Killing Curse. And, Riddle was right - his mother was not here to die for him this time. He was quite unprotected until 'the cavalry' could save him.

"We bow to each other, Harry," said Riddle, bending a little, but keeping his snakelike face upturned to Harry. "Come, the niceties must be observed. Dumbledore would like you to show manners. Bow to death, Harry..."

The masked morons were laughing again. Riddle's lipless mouth was smiling.

Harry bowed. He was not going to let Riddle play with him before killing him - he was not going to give him that satisfaction - but, he was not going to invite another Cruciatus Curse to the chest, either.

"Very good," said Riddle softly. "And now you face me, like a man - straight-backed and proud, the way your father died...

"And now - we duel."

Riddle raised his wand, and before Harry could do anything to defend himself - before he could even move - he had been hit again by the Cruciatus Curse. The pain was intense. It felt like white-hot knives were piercing every inch of his skin. His head was surely going to burst with pain. He was screaming more loudly than he'd ever screamed in his life.

And then it stopped. Harry rolled over and scrambled to his feet. He staggered sideways into the wall of watching masked morons; and they pushed him away, back toward Riddle.

"A little break," said Riddle, the slit-like nostrils dilating with excitement, "a little pause - That hurt much; didn't it, Harry? You don't want me to do that again, do you?"

Harry didn't answer. He was going to die if the cavalry didn't act soon. Those pitiless red eyes were telling him so - he was going to die, and there was nothing he could do about it - but he wasn't going to play along. He wasn't going to obey Voldemort - he wasn't going to beg...

"I asked you whether you want me to do that again," said Riddle softly. "Answer me! _Imperio!_"

And Harry felt the sensation that his mind had been wiped of all thought. Ah, it was bliss, not to think, it was as though he were floating, dreaming - just answer no - say no - just answer no...

'I will not,' said a stronger voice, in the back of his head, 'I won't answer - Just answer no - I won't do it, I won't say it - Just answer - CAST!'

Harry suddenly snapped his wand up and, with a roar, cast. "_Diffindo!_"

The incantation burst from Harry's mouth - it echoed through the graveyard - and the dream state was lifted as suddenly as though cold water had been thrown over him.

Riddle was thrown backwards into the masked morons behind him, with a huge gash in his left shoulder.

And all hell broke loose.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Neither Aunt Amelia, nor Uncle Algie, needed to give the signal. The forces of light knew they'd just received it. They came out from behind their places of concealment and attacked.

Harry drew his magic around himself - and pushed. Those masked morons close by were flung backwards. Harry dove to the side to avoid any inopportune curses cast his way. He rolled back to his feet in a crouch, just as Riddle regained his own feet.

Riddle was ready. As Harry shouted, "_Expelliarmus!_" Riddle cried, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

A jet of green light issued from Riddle's wand just as a jet of red light blasted from Harry's - they met in midair - and suddenly Harry's wand was vibrating as though an electric charge were surging through it. His hand seized up around it; he couldn't have released it if he'd wanted to - and a narrow beam of light connected the two wands, neither red nor green, but bright, deep gold.

Harry, following the beam with his astonished gaze, saw that Riddle's long white fingers too were gripping a wand that was shaking and vibrating.

And then - nothing could have prepared Harry for this - he felt his feet lift from the ground. He and Riddle were both being raised into the air, their wands still connected by that thread of shimmering golden light as a major battle of criss-crossing curses and charms flew about them - around them.

They glided away from the tombstone of Riddle's father and then came to rest on a patch of ground that was clear and free of graves. People were shouting. The masked morons were asking Riddle for instructions. Dodging curses and firing back, they were closing in; trying to reform the circle around Harry and Riddle. The snake slithering at their heels.

The golden thread connecting Harry and Riddle splintered; though the wands remained connected. A thousand more beams arced high over Harry and Riddle; criss-crossing all around them, until they were enclosed in a golden, dome-shaped web - a cage of light - beyond which the masked morons circled like jackals while also battling the attacking forces.

"Do nothing!" Riddle shrieked to his followers. And Harry saw his red eyes widen with astonishment at what was happening - saw him fighting to break the thread of light still connecting his wand with Harry's. Harry held onto his wand more tightly, with both hands, and the golden thread remained unbroken. "Do nothing unless I command you!" Riddle shouted to the morons.

And then an unearthly and beautiful sound filled the air. It was coming from every thread of the light-spun web vibrating around Harry and Riddle. It was a sound Harry recognized, though he had heard it only once before in his life - phoenix song at full cry.

It was the sound of hope to Harry - the most beautiful and welcome thing he had ever heard in his life. He felt as though the song were inside him instead of just around him. It was the sound he connected with Fawkes, and it was almost as though a friend were speaking in his ear.

"Don't break the connection."

'I know.' Harry told the music. 'I know, I mustn't!' But, no sooner had he thought it, than the thing became much harder to do. His wand began to vibrate more powerfully than ever. And the beam between him and Riddle changed, too. It was as though large beads of light were sliding up and down the thread connecting the wands.

Harry felt his wand give a shudder under his hand as the light beads began to slide slowly and steadily his way. The direction of the beam's movement was now toward him, from Riddle. And he felt his wand shudder angrily. As the closest bead of light moved nearer to Harry's wand tip, the wood beneath his fingers grew so hot he feared it would burst into flame.

The closer that bead moved, the harder Harry's wand vibrated. He was sure his wand would not survive contact with it. It felt as though it was about to shatter under his fingers. He concentrated every last particle of his mind upon forcing the bead back toward Voldemort, his ears full of phoenix song, his eyes furious, fixed.

Slowly, very slowly, the beads quivered to a halt, and then, just as slowly, they began to move the other way.

Harry then started to finally draw his magic in. He drew it in and forced it out through the wand. He channelled it so it wouldn't leak about him. He focussed, and it was Riddle's wand that was vibrating extra-hard now. It was Riddle who looked astonished, and almost fearful.

One of the beads of light was quivering, inches from the tip of Riddle's wand.

Harry didn't understand why he was doing it - didn't know what it might achieve - but, he now concentrated as he had never done in his life on forcing that bead of light right back into Riddle's wand. And slowly - very slowly - it moved along the golden thread. It trembled for a moment - and then it connected...

At once, Riddle's wand began to emit echoing screams of pain. Then, Riddle's red eyes widened with shock. A dense, smoky hand flew out of the tip of it and vanished - the ghost of the hand he had made Wormtail. More shouts of pain - and then something much larger began to blossom from the tip of Riddle's wand - a great, greyish something that looked as though it were made of the solidest, densest smoke. It was a head - now a chest and arms - an old man Harry had not seen before was now pushing himself out of the end of the wand.

If ever Harry might have released his wand from shock, it would have been then. But, instinct kept him clutching his wand tightly, so that the thread of golden light remained unbroken. He held, even though the thick gray ghost of the old man (was it a ghost? it looked so solid) emerged in its entirety from the end of Riddle's wand; as though it were squeezing itself out of a very narrow tunnel. And this shade of an old man stood up, with mild surprise, leaning on his walking stick, and looked up and down the golden thread of light, and spoke.

"He was a real wizard, then?" the old man asked, his eyes on Riddle. "Killed me, that one did. You fight him, boy..."

But already, yet another head was emerging - and this head, gray as a smoky statue, was a woman's. Harry, both arms shaking now as he fought to keep his wand still, saw her drop to the ground and straighten up like the others, staring. The shadow of Bertha Jorkins surveyed the battle before her with wide eyes.

"Don't let go, now!" she cried, and her voice echoed like the old man's as though from very far away. "Don't let him get you, Mister Potter - _don't let go!_"

She and the other shadowy figure began to pace around the inner walls of the golden web, while the masked morons fought around the outside of it. Riddle's dead victims whispered as they circled the duellers, whispered words of encouragement to Harry, and hissed words Harry couldn't hear to Riddle.

And now another head was emerging from the tip of Riddle's wand. A young woman. She joined the others. It sounded like she was yelling at Riddle in Italian, or something.

Yet another began to emerge, and Harry knew when he saw it, who it would be. He knew, as though he had expected it from the moment the figures had appeared from the wand. He knew, because the man appearing was the one he'd thought of more than any other tonight.

The smoky shadow of a tall man with untidy hair fell to the ground as the others had done, straightened up, and looked at him. Harry, his arms shaking madly now, looked back into the ghostly face of his father.

"Your mother's coming..." the shade of his father said quietly. "She wants to see you - it will be all right - hold on..."

And she came - first, her head, then her body - a young woman with long hair. The smoky, shadowy form of Lily Potter blossomed from the end of Riddle's wand, fell to the ground, and straightened like her husband. She walked close to Harry, looking down at him; and she spoke in the same distant, echoing voice as the others; but, quietly, so that Riddle, his face now livid with fear as his victims prowled around him, could not hear.

"When the connection is broken, we will linger for only moments; but, we will give you time. Riddle's forces, here, are vanquished. It's only you and he, now. When we tell you to break the connection, do so immediately. You must _then_ immediately hit him with the Expulsion Curse. Do you understand, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry gasped, fighting now to keep a hold on his wand, which was slipping and sliding beneath his fingers.

"Then you must immediately kill the snake," his mother firmly said. "Nagini is the last of his horcruxes. Once she's dead, it's over. Do you understand?"

"Yes!" Harry gasped again.

"Ready... do it now," whispered his father's voice, "Be ready to strike - Do it _now!_"

"_NOW!_" Harry yelled. He didn't think he could have held on for another moment, anyway. He pulled his wand upward with an almighty wrench, and the golden thread broke. The cage of light vanished, the phoenix song died - but the shadowy figures of Voldemort's victims did not disappear - they were closing in upon Voldemort, shielding Harry from his gaze.

With his magic surging through him, singing in his veins, Harry powered his Curse and uttered the incantation with a soft snarl. "Expulso!"

The dark brown curse flew from his wand tip and struck a completely unprepared Riddle dead centre in the upper chest, where the breastbone could normally be found.

Not even looking to see what damage he'd done to the man, Harry spun to his right; where he sensed the snake to be. He saw it as it was just starting its strike, right towards him.

With a shout of "_Diffindo!_" his curse hit the snake in the upper neck, and severed the head right off the body.

The head, now loose struck him in the thigh before bouncing away. A moment later, an unholy black mist rose from the snake with an unearthly scream. It then faded away.

He turned back to look at Riddle. The shades had all disappeared as he slowly walked forward. Everywhere was silent, except for the cries of the injured and dying around him. He was focussed only on the supine body before him.

Surprisingly, Riddle appeared to still be alive - unconscious, but alive.

Harry raised his wand and - with barely any hesitation - muttered, "Diffindo!" severing the head from the body.

Again, a black mist rose from the body before it emitted an unearthly scream and faded away.

He was done.

Harry fell to his knees and onto his haunches, before he leaned forward and vomited up the contents of his stomach.

He felt arms suddenly circle around his shoulders. He stiffened before he heard, in his ear, the voice of his godfather. "_I've got you!_"

He was sobbing his heart out. The effects of the Cruciatus Curse, now that his adrenaline and magic levels were dropping back down, were causing spasms in his muscles throughout his body. But, he didn't care.

Looking around, he could see aurors moving among the bodies of the downed masked morons. They were moving swiftly and efficiently. Where they found a live one, they stripped it of its masked moron robes and mask; summoned wands and portkeys; affixed to their wrists anti-magic cuffs; and moved on.

Where they clearly found a dead one, they did the same; but, didn't use the cuffs.

"Lord Potter," he heard the voice of Aunt Amelia.

Turning to the voice, he saw her and Croaker come and kneel by him. She vanished the remains of the vomit from before him, and said, "We're getting you out of here. Algernon has opened the Department of Mystery's own medical wing for you and everyone else, here, who was injured. We want to keep this quiet, for now."

"Wh - where's Daphne?" he croaked.

Croaker hesitated before he said, "We'll send her. For now, we want to keep - this - quiet. Everyone who was involved will meet us there, including Lady Daphne."

Harry stiffened and said, "She wasn't hurt, was she?"

"No," he said. "We kept her well away from the fight."

Harry relaxed again and nodded. "Don't forget to bring - that," he said, gesturing to the body of Riddle.

"We won't; I assure you," smiled Croaker.

"Just so you know," said Harry. "My - mum - told me the snake was the last of his horcruxes. It's over. Riddle's now really, _really_, dead."

Croaker stiffened before he turned and looked at the body of the snake. "Then, we'll bring that back with us, too."

He then turned the other way and picked up a shattered piece of marble. With a muttered, "_Portus_," he turned it into a portkey. "You need to go, now," he said. "Lord Black, please ensure he's immediately treated with an Anti-Cruciatus Potion when he arrives."

"I will," replied Sirius firmly from just behind Harry's shoulder.

Croaker handed the portkey to Harry, who held it in the palm of his hand. Sirius then reached out and touched it.

Reaching out, himself, and touching the piece of marble with the tip of his wand, Croaker muttered, "Activate."

With the recognisable hard tug on his navel, Harry and Sirius disappeared in the swirl of the portkey.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	75. More Headaches

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Five - More Headaches**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

When he arrived in what was clearly a large medi-ward, Harry was immediately levitated onto a bed.

He heard Sirius angrily mutter to a medi-witch, "He's been hit with the Cruciatus Curse - twice."

And, almost immediately, he was practically force-fed two potions. Neither flavour of which he recognised.

The effects were almost instant. He felt the trembling in his muscles from damaged nerves settle down and calm.

After the healers muttered a few incantations upon him, they moved away to be replaced by his godfather, who was arguing with yet another healer.

"I'll get into bed in a minute," he snarked at the healer. "First, I'm making sure my godson is alright."

"Damn it, Lord Black," the healer snarled back. "I've got incoming and I don't have time to play _games_ with you!"

"Fine," snarled Sirius. "Treat me here, then."

"Sirius," said Harry, trying to be stern but failing. "Play nice with the lovely healers or I'll conjure up a rolled up newspaper."

Sirius looked back at Harry with surprise before he barked with laughter. "Alright, Harry. With a bad joke like that one, I know you're going to be okay."

He then moved over to the bed next to Harry and lay upon it as the healers moved to treat him.

Looking across, Harry could see that Sirius had a large gash on his upper wand arm, as the healers moved to cut away the sleeve of his robes.

"Please, ladies," he said. "No going goo-goo eyes over my ripped and manly physique."

"I'm sure we'll be able to restrain ourselves," said one of the healers with so much sarcasm it literally dripped from the words.

Harry couldn't help it. He giggled; like a little girl. 'Must be the shock of coming down from all that adrenaline,' he thought. 'Yeah, that must be it. There's no way I'd giggle if it was anything else.'

As he lay there, he looked around the room to see quite a few other beds occupied with healers treating them. Some had patients who were obviously already treated and were sleeping, or looking around themselves.

There was another light crack of an incoming portkey arrival with the sound of a bell giving a short, sharp ring just before it arrived.

He watched as he saw Daphne and Hermione appear in the middle of the floor. Two healers moved towards them as Daphne snapped, "We're fine! We weren't in the battle!"

Hermione's eyes locked with his for a moment before she tapped Daphne on the arm and, pointing at him, said, "There!"

Both girls then hurried over with Daphne bursting into tears as she practically dived on top of his chest.

"You bloody idiot!" she almost shrieked at him. "You just _had_ to get snarky with him, didn't you!"

"Yes, actually, I _did_!" replied Harry. "I could see my rescue party moving to surround us and I needed to make sure Riddle and his masked morons kept their attention focussed _inwards_. If any of them had looked outside of their circle they could have spotted my rescuers and possibly - probably - got us killed!"

Daphne was about to say something else when Harry heard someone say from across the ward, "That was a damned brave thing you did, Lord Potter."

Looking up, Harry saw a rather undistinguishable individual looking back with a small smile on his lips. "Oh, hey," said Harry.

The man gave a slight nod and said, "And, you were correct. By you holding Vol- Riddle's - attention to you, it allowed us all to get just that much closer. I have little doubt we'd have lost more - or allowed some of them to get away - if you hadn't done so."

"We - lost people?" Harry quietly asked, not really wanting to know the answer.

With a sad smile, the man replied, "We did. However, you're not to think it was because of _your_ actions. You did far more than anyone had a right to expect of you. Merlin! You're only a fourteen year old child..."

"Nearly fifteen," interrupted Harry. "Nearly married, too."

The man smiled and said, "Nevertheless, you _still_ did far more than anyone had a right to expect of you. The people we lost weren't as a result of the fight with the masked Death Eaters. We lost them to a couple of traitors in our midst; an Unspeakable and an auror; both of whom were discovered to have been marked."

Harry sighed and fearfully looked at Sirius; who was looking back at him with a sad smile of his own. "Anyone we know?" he softly asked.

"No," replied his godfather. "There were just a few minor injuries among our family and friends."

"Friends!" Harry exclaimed, trying to sit up. "We need to let them know we're okay."

Another incoming portkey alert and three others arrived. They each bore minor injuries and were quickly hustled onto beds.

"Already done, Harry," said Daphne, after the latest scurrying was done and pushing him back down. "I sent a patronus to Tracey, letting her know we're all okay; and to pass the message on to the others."

Allowing himself to flop back onto the bed, Harry sighed and said, "Good. Thank you. I wouldn't want them to unduly worry."

Harry was quite bone-weary. He tried to stay awake to hear news that every one got back safely, but the strain of the night soon saw his eyes start to drift closed. The last he remembered was Daphne leaning in to kiss him on the lips before she said, "Sleep peacefully, Harry. It's done."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning - or afternoon, or whatever - Croaker came in and handed him a prophecy sphere with a smile. It was full of dark grey smoke or mist.

"What's this?" asked Harry looking up at Neville's great uncle, the Head of the Unspeakables.

Grinning back, Croaker said, "That's the prophecy sphere that held the prophecy concerning you and Riddle. As you can see, the contents are now dark grey. As I've explained to you before, that means the prophecy has been completed. It's the final confirmation you destroyed Riddle."

"So, it's really over, then," Harry sighed with happiness.

"Yep," said Croaker. "You're done."

With another sigh and an almost dreamy smile, Harry heartfelt said, "_Finally!_"

"You can keep that, if you like," said Croaker, indicating the sphere. "I'm told they make wonderful conversation pieces."

Looking back down at it, Harry said, "Yeah; and it should get Dumdum Dumbledore off my back."

"That's already done," said Croaker. "I floo called him, this morning, at his brother's pub in Hogsmeade. He was expecting to receive a recall to - once again - take up the mantle of Headmaster of Hogwarts. He was all packed up, ready to go back to the casle. When I showed him the sphere, he was quite shocked. He almost appeared to be disappointed."

"Awww - poor baby," mock-pouted Harry. "Did someone up and destroy all his plans?"

Croaker chuckled and replied, "You know; I think you may have hit the nail on the head with that." He appeared to think a bit before he grinned again and said, "Yes. I think that's _exactly_ what he felt happened."

"In that case, I think I _will_ hold onto this sphere," said Harry, just a little annoyed. "And, each time he tries to say Riddle will come back, I'll just wave it under his nose."

"What happened to his - remains?" asked Harry.

"Well, we've kept the head; the body was tossed through the Veil of Death, as was his snake - after we confirmed it was a living horcrux," replied Croaker. "Oh, and a nice shot with the Severing Charm, by the way. It was a perfect and clean cut."

"I'm not going to be in trouble with - umm - _killing_ him, am I?" asked Harry. "After all, he couldn't really defend himself when I hit him with the _Diffindo_."

"Nope," replied Croaker, quite chipper. "Riddle was declared dead in 1981. What you did was destroy a life-sized _homunculus_ - a body made from magic. _Magically_, you may have killed him; but, _lawfully_, you didn't; as he was already legally declared dead."

Reaching into his pocket, Croaker then drew forth a piece of parchment before handing it to Harry.

Taking it and looking at it, Harry asked, "What's this?"

"That's an oath we want you to take," replied Croaker.

Reading it right through, Harry looked up and said, "You're kidding!"

"Nope!" grinned back Croaker.

With a sigh, Harry drew his wand. Before starting the oath, he looked back at Croaker and said, "You know, I've decided I'm going to _hate_ you now."

"I don't care," replied Croaker with a chuckle. "You won't be the only one who does."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry was released from the infirmary, that evening, and floo'ed directly to Greengrass Estate. And, stepping out of the floo at the Estate, he immediately fell flat on his face.

Muttering imprecations as to the parentage of the inventor of the floo system as he climbed back to his feet, he was suddenly tackled back to the ground by a blonde-haired missile hitting him from the side.

"Oof!" he exclaimed. "_Damn_ it, Tori!"

He was immediately flipped onto his back with Tori sitting on his hips. Before he could even focus, his chin was grabbed and he was forced to look up.

"Mmmph!" he exclaimed, before his chin was released. "Oh! Hi, gorgeous!" he said to - not Tori - Daphne.

"Tori, indeed," she mock-snarled down at him. "Tori's at Hogwarts, ya dummy."

"Of course she is," said Harry, trying to smile sweetly. "How _ever_ could I have forgotten. It's not as if I've only _partly_ recovered from vanquishing the worst dark lord Magical Britain's seen in about three hun... mmmph!"

"Shut up," glowered his betrothed, while holding her hand over his mouth.

When he nodded back, she pulled her hand away.

When he wasn't going to speak again, she relaxed. "Now," she said, "Aunt Amelia's sitting in the informal dining room with Dad, Sirius and Remus. She needs to debrief you of what happened. She's also got news for you. You are to answer any and all questions and not be either flippant or snarky."

"Can I be petulant?" he asked. "Or, what about snooty?"

"Shut up," she glowered at him, again.

"Okay - okay - I'll be good; I promise," he said, a little meekly.

Staring back for a few moments her face slowly morphed into an evil little smile. "At least someone's happy to see me," she softly said, giving her hips a little grind.

Harry, realising what she was talking about, blushed and said, "Errr - I don't think you should do that. I'm not going to be able to walk for a few minutes if you don't stop."

With a grin, she suddenly hopped up off him and helped him to his feet.

With a sigh of relief - and a surreptitious readjustment of his man-wand - he leaned in and kissed her on the cheek. "Thank you," he said, before heading off for the dining room.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Walking in, he saw Aunt Amelia, Cygnus, Sirius and Remus quietly talking over cups of tea.

Looking up, Sirius suddenly grinned at him and said, "Here he is! The-Man-Who-Vanquished!"

"Oh, Merlin!" Harry moaned. "Not another bloody hyphenated name!"

Sirius chuckled back and said, "I won't tell anyone if you don't," before he kicked a chair out next to him. "Come. Sit!"

"Isn't that what I'm supposed to say to you?" snarked Harry.

Sirius just chuckled while tapping the seat of the chair.

Harry sighed and walked over, taking seat. One of the Greengrass elves then suddenly appeared with a cup of tea for him. Tasting it, it was exactly as he liked.

While he was sipping his tea, Amelia set a dicta-quill going.

"Now," she said, turning back to Harry. "First off, how are you feeling?"

"In a word; relieved," replied Harry.

"What about - physically?" she asked, with a smile.

Thinking a bit, Harry replied, "Pretty good, actually. No aches or pains. The effects of the double dose of Cruciatus Curse have also stopped. And the healers fixed the stab wound on my elbow up, right as rain."

Nodding, Amelia said, "Excellent. Now, I want you to step me through everything that happened from the time you stepped onto the outside lawns of Hogwarts on your way to the Quidditch stands to watch the final task."

With a sigh, Harry began. By the time he finished, a couple hours later, he felt his throat would have been feeling quite raw, if not for the tea he'd been drinking. Amelia had only stopped him to ask pertinent questions a couple of times during his tale. The other adults just remained silent, except for a few near-silent gasps.

"Alright, Lord Potter," she said. "With the exception of asking you for the memory of what happened, that's the official part out of the way. Do you have any questions for me?"

"Plenty," replied Harry, quietly. "First, the light stuff. Did anyone find what happened to my communication mirror?"

"I've got it, Harry," replied Sirius. "I damn near stepped on it when I was crouched behind one of the grave markers."

"Probably the same one I was crouched behind before Pettigrew shot me in the back with a Stunner," mused Harry. "Next, how many of - our side - did we lose?"

The adults looked at one another before Amelia sighed and said, "Six aurors and three Unspeakables. None who weren't either of those. However, that also includes the three - traitors."

"Do I know the names?" asked Harry.

"No, I don't believe so," replied Amelia. "But, it'll be in the paper soon - so - the ones who died from the Unspeakables were Broderick Bode, Clementine Whipple and Augustus Rookwood. The aurors were Arnold Peasgood, John Dawlish, Alastor Gumboil, Frederick Savage, Gawain Robards and Prudence Proudfoot. We're not identifying which of them are - were - the traitors; to give their families peace."

"I know some of the names of the masked morons, but who was actually killed in the battle?" asked Harry.

Again, the adults all looked at each other before Aunt Amelia stared firmly right at him and said, "They _all_ died in the battle; alright, Harry?"

Harry looked back for a moments before it dawned on him what she said, "Then, it is a pity none of them were able to survive their wounds from such a vicious and hard fought battle."

Aunt Amelia and the other adults visibly relaxed at his words, before Aunt Amelia quietly said, "Yes, it is."

Looking down at her notes, she said, "Those who died at the graveyard on the other side were: Tom Riddle - of course - Merton Avery, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Vincent Crabbe Senior, Samuel Gibbon, Graham Goyle, Conrad Jugson, Walden MacNair, Lucius Malfoy, Cameron Nott, Peter Pettigrew, Evan Rosier Senior, Thorfinn Rowle, Roberto Selwynn, Severus Snape, and Dominic Yaxley."

"Sixteen - or seventeen, if you count Riddle. It felt like thirty, while I was there." Harry sighed and said, "That's the fathers of - four of my year mates in Slytherin. And, Professor Snape thrown in for good measure."

Harry then sat there quietly for a few moments before, with his head bowed, he quietly asked, "Did you see them? Did you see my Mum and Dad?"

All the adults, except Remus, let out a quite audible sigh before Sirius replied, "Yeah, pup. Yeah, we did."

"It was Mum who told me the snake was the last horcrux," Harry quietly said.

The group sat in silence for another minute before Sirius asked, "So, Harry; what did Croaker want before he released you?"

Looking up and at his godfather with a bit of a grimace, Harry replied, "That I can't tell you until I go see the goblins. Once I've done that I can tell you, though." Sitting up a little straighter, he continued, "He also told me I've got to do it pretty quickly; so, we'll need to head there as soon as possible."

"Tomorrow morning, then," said Cygnus. "Before I take you back to Hogwarts, so you can finish the year out with your friends."

Finishing his latest cup of tea, Harry excused himself to go say goodnight to Daphne before he headed for bed. It was getting quite late.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Rising early the next morning, Harry quickly readied himself for the day. He dashed down to the informal dining table to have breakfast, only to have already been beaten by Daphne and Cygnus.

With a sigh, he said, "Good morning," before giving Daphne a kiss on the cheek.

"Morning, Harry," said Cygnus as Daphne said, "Good morning, my love."

"As soon as you've had breakfast, we'll head for Gringotts; if that's alright with you, Harry," said Cygnus.

"That's fine," replied Harry. "The quicker we get it out of the way, the better we'll be."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Walking in through the doors of Gringotts, one of the goblins came forward, immediately. "Director Ragnok would like a word," said the little fellow, before he spun on his heel and walked off, clearly expecting Harry, Cygnus and Daphne to follow.

With a shrug at the other two, Harry followed the goblin through the bank, up a flight of stairs; and told them to wait, while he banged on a huge pair of golden doors.

He entered and came out a few seconds later. Turning to them, he said, "The Director will speak with you now," and walked away.

With a shake of his head, Cygnus led the three of them inside.

They entered quite a large room. Covering the wall at the far end, behind a large desk, was an array of weapons. Sitting at the desk was a rather old goblin.

The old goblin looked up, ensured he had their attention, and gestured to three chairs set across from him and a little back from the desk.

Cygnus led them over and they sat together with Harry in the middle, and Cygnus and Daphne to each side.

After a few moments, Cygnus lightly cleared his throat before he asked in a deferential voice, "Honoured Director, to what do we owe the pleasure?"

Ragnok paused in his writing for a moment and glanced at Cygnus before turning his gaze upon Harry. "Lord Potter," he began. "I received _quite_ the unusual notice from your Unspeakables, yester-evening."

Harry didn't know what to say; so, instead, chose to say nothing. He just squirmed in his chair a little.

The old goblin gave an almost predatory smile before he said, "I have summoned Master Account Keeper Bloodfang to join us. He shall be but a moment. Then, we shall begin."

Just as the old goblin looked down at the parchment upon his desk, another door to the office was opened. In walked Bloodfang.

The Potter Accounts goblin was carrying a huge ledger in his two hands. On top of that, he held two smaller ledgers. And, on top of those, he carried a small stone basin and an athame.

He set the lot down on the edge of the Director's desk before backing away a little.

Harry gave his 'friend' a small smile.

Moving some parchment out of the way, Ragnok pulled the stack of ledgers towards himself. He removed the stone basin and athame and set them aside before rising from his desk.

"Step forward, please, Lord Potter," the old goblin quietly said.

Harry rose and walked to the side of the desk.

"I require you to undergo a second rite of inheritance, today, Lord Potter. This one will be in greater detail," the old goblin said, handing Harry the athame. "Cut the palm of your hand and allow the blood to pour into this basin. When it has enough, your hand will be healed."

Harry switched the athame to his left hand, took a decent grip on the grip of the knife, held out his right hand over the bowl, and sliced through his palm in a sharp downward slice.

Immediately, blood began to out from his palm and rapidly drip into the basin. Daphne gasped while Cygnus appeared to be in shock.

Once the basin seemed to have had enough, runes around its rim unseen until then, began to glow. The blood pouring out of Harry's deep laceration stopped immediately.

Harry looked down as he drew his hand back and saw the wound was healed and gone.

Looking back to the basin, Harry watched as Ragnok added something to the blood, turning it almost instantly black.

Then Ragnok picked up a large gold quill, dropping the tip of it into the blood/ink.

A quick flourish and a large sheet of parchment appeared before Harry.

Ragnok looked straight at Harry and said, "Take the quill in your right hand, Mister Potter; and place the tip of it in the centre of the sheet of parchment before you."

Harry did as required. Suddenly, the quill leapt out of his hand, so Harry pulled his hand out of the way.

The quill began to rapidly write. It appeared to be writing from the bottom of the sheet, upwards, though. The quill also had to make a couple of trips back to the blood ink before it finally stopped, and fell over and lay quiescent on the parchment.

Ragnok reached over, picked up the quill and returned it to the stone basin. Then, he reached for the sheet, orienting it so he could read it.

Once he was apparently done, he said something in the goblin language to Bloodfang, who seemed surprised. Bloodfang left the room as Ragnok gestured for Harry to retake his seat.

Harry was pretty sure of what Ragnok found, so wasn't impatient to know. However, he could see both Daphne and Cygnus were.

"Lord Potter," said Ragnok. "It appears your Unspeakable Croaker is correct. By right of conquest, and the claiming of such last night, you are now the Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Slytherin."

Harry heard Daphne gasp and suddenly clutch at his arm quite tightly. Even Cygnus seemed quite shocked.

"Furthermore, what the Unspeakables did not inform us, is that you are also the Head of the Noble and Ancient House of Gryffindor by primogenitor; and the Ancient House of Gaunt by conquest."

Harry just nodded and sighed. "_Please_ tell me there are no marriage contracts tied to any of those," he begged.

Ragnok smiled and said, "There appears to be not. However, we shall have confirmation of that, shortly."

Ragnok conjured up a small Victorian tea table; and had caused to be set a tea service with three cups, upon it. Harry reached over and made tea for himself, Daphne and Cygnus.

As Harry was handing the other two their cups, Bloodfang returned with another goblin. Bloodfang was carrying another slim ledger, while the other goblin was carrying a set of wooden ring boxes. All of them were set on the desk before Ragnok.

Ragnok then looked at Harry and asked, "Is it your intention, Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor, to take up your Head of House rings, at this time, for those who have them?"

Harry sighed, nodded and said, "It is."

Ragnok then gestured for Harry to come forward again, before he opened the first ring box in his hand; and offering it to Harry.

Knowing which ring to take, Harry extracted the Head of House ring for Gryffindor and was about to put it on his next in line finger when Ragnok said, "On the same finger as your Head of House ring for House Potter, Lord Potter. The rings will combine into one."

Without looking up, Harry simply nodded and did as instructed. As the two rings met there was a flash. Both rings now blended into one.

Harry then went through the same for the new Head of House ring for Slytherin. There was no such ring for the Head of House Gaunt.

As Harry returned to his seat, he could feel the rings inputting information into his head. He wondered why he hadn't felt that with the Potter ring, until he realised it was because he hadn't mastered Occlumency then.

Once Harry had retaken his seat, yet again, Ragnok said, "The correspondence I received from your Unspeakables also informed me there would be business you would need to take care of, immediately."

Again, Harry nodded. "I will also be needing to call in debts due to all four Houses. However, I wish to review them before informing you which ones I want to call in. Is that alright with you, honoured Director?"

Ragnok gave that predatory smile again, before he replied, "Of course, Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor."

Harry blanched at the name and said, "Please. Just call me Harry. If you absolutely _have to_ use the Lord nonsense, can we stick to _just_ Lord Potter, please?"

Again, the smile, "Of course - Harry."

"I also understand you to be an exceptionally busy being, honoured Director," said Harry, moving to rise. "I believe I can conclude this business with Gringotts today with Master Account Keeper Bloodfang."

"You may remain seated, Harry" the old goblin quietly replied. "It is not often we discover one of the founders of Hogwarts; much less two at once. I wish to speak with you, further. And to ensure a copy of the record of debts owed you, and owing _by_ you, for all your Houses is with you ere you leave us this day."

Harry sat back and nodded as Daphne and Cygnus both, also, appeared to be relaxed. However, Harry knew Daphne's posture was a complete fabrication. He guessed the same with Cygnus.

"First," said Ragnok, leaning forward in his chair and placing his arms on his desk. "I wish to know how it is you came to be recognised as the new Head of House Slytherin - by conquest - yester-evening."

Harry sighed and glanced at Cygnus. Cygnus gave him a barely perceptible nod. Turning back to Ragnok, he said, "Well, it'll be in all the papers soon enough. Last night, I finally destroyed - for good - the one who calls himself - sorry, called himself - Lord Voldemort; Tom Marvolo Riddle. He was Head to both Houses of Gaunt and Slytherin."

Looking back in surprise, Ragnok said, "The dark one is dead?"

"Yes, but not _just_ dead," replied Harry. "He's dead for good, this time. It's also been confirmed within the Department of Mysteries."

"And just how did you destroy the dark one?"

"By one-on-one magical combat through a wizard's duel," Harry flatly replied.

Ragnok nodded and said, "That would do it. Do I also understand it was the Unspeakables that told you how to claim both Houses by oath?"

"You do," replied Harry. "It seems the Unspeakables wanted me to do it so I could use the claiming of debts to financially ruin those who might seek to use their fortunes to bring forth another dark lord.

"However, I'm not prepared to ruin _everyone_ in the process. There may well be some very nice families that could be harmed if I was to call due _all_ debts."

As Harry was speaking, another goblin came in with a small stack of parchment, and placed them before Ragnok on his desk.

Once Harry had finished speaking, Ragnok said, "That is very wise of you, Harry." And looked down at the parchment.

He quickly moved through it before giving a slight grunt and sliding the whole pile across the desk. "These are the copies of the records of the debts. Please use them wisely."

Harry stood up slightly and picked up the records before taking seat again. He didn't even bother to look at them, for now. There was plenty of time for that.

"Further," said Ragnok, "it is confirmed there are no further marriage contracts pending that would concern you."

Harry sighed with relief.

"Now, I believe that concludes our business today, Lord Potter. Thank you for taking the time to answer a few of my questions."

Harry and the other two stood. "And thank you for taking the time to speak with us today, honoured Director. May gold continue to flow into your vaults; and may your enemies feel the keen edge of your axe."

"As with you, Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor," said the old goblin, standing and giving a slight bow, to which both Harry and Cygnus responded in kind.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Walking out of the bank via the main floor, Harry said, "I feel you have many questions. Shall we partake of icecream in a private booth at Florean's before Daphne and I have to head to Hogwarts?"

"Capital idea," said Cygnus.

Once they were seated in the booth, before the questions could start flying, Harry said, "I'm sorry I wasn't able to tell you before. That annoying hooded git, Croaker, made me take a vow not to tell anyone until after I'd visited Gringotts. Which we've now just done."

"So, you really _are_ a Slytherin," smirked Cygnus.

Harry groaned and said, "You're going to rub my face in that - like - _forever_, aren't you?"

Cygnus chuckled and said, "I happen to think it's - what do they call it? - karma. This is what happened due to you tricking the Sorting Hat out of sorting you into your _rightful_ House."

Harry just grunted in response.

Daphne asked, "So, when we marry in five weeks, I'll become Lady Daphne Ophelia Greengrass-Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor?"

"Not if you don't want to be," said Cygnus, cutting in. "You can choose almost any combination of name of the four - sorry, _five_. I forgot about the House of Gaunt."

"I think the right thing to do with House Gaunt is to declare it dead," said Harry. "It's a House with a truly horrid history. It should be relegated to the pages of history and let die."

"Now, don't be so hasty," said Cygnus, raising a placating hand. "It _is_ an Ancient House. Pour enough gold into its vaults and it can be elevated to Noble status just off its Ancient status. That automatically grants you another seat upon the Wizengamot.

"Besides, we've already lost enough Houses to the ravages of war - especially, to _that_ man. That's why Isabel and Monica are working hard to track down heirs to some Houses thought defunct because they'd lost track of the squibs."

Harry groaned, "Wise counsel, Lord Greengrass." He sighed and said, "Alright. We'll see what we need to do to elevate the Ancient House of Gaunt to Noble status before I consider ending it - Next?"

"How many wives do you intend to take?" asked Cygnus.

"_What?_" Harry looked up, startled.

Harry could feel Daphne squirming in her seat next to him.

"Settle down, Harry," said Cygnus, again raising his hand in the placating gesture. "In the wizarding world, when there's a rare occurrence of one person holding two headships, that person is entitled to one wife per title. As you currently hold four titles - soon to be five - my question is rather apropos for the situation. So - how many wives do you intend to take?"

"_One!_" squawked an almost indignant Harry, blushing away.

"It's up to you," said Cygnus. "However, it's really up to you _both_. It's also something you should _both_ consider, to make sure those lines do not die out."

"I can name different Heirs for the different Houses?" asked Harry.

"Certainly," replied Cygnus. "My next question is; are you going to go public with this?"

"Yes," replied Daphne.

"I am?" asked Harry, turning to look at her.

"Yes," she replied again. "You can use Luna to - disseminate the information."

"You realise there's going to be unattached witches and Heads of Houses, out there, who are going to see this as a way to push young witches upon me, by way of betrothal contracts, don't you?" asked Harry.

Daphne's face adopted a resolute expression before she replied, "Yes. Together, we'll deal with them."

Nodding, Harry said, "Fair enough, then. This afternoon, we'll drag Luna aside in our Room and give her the information. We'll give her the final 'interview' on the weekend."

Daphne nodded back.

Harry then said, "I think we need to go visit Dewey before we leave here, today. I'd hate for him to get upset we forgot to let him know."

"No," smirked Cygnus. "He'd be _most_ put out."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	76. Explaining Things

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Six - Explaining Things**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After paying Dewey a quick visit and bringing him up to speed with what was happening, it was _he_ who recommended Harry strike while the iron was hot and take up the Lordships of the two founders Houses at the next available Wizengamot session.

"If you move immediately," he counselled, "it won't give anyone time to mount a defence against you acquiring those seats."

"Can I do that while Gran's acting as my proxy?" asked Harry.

"Certainly," replied Dewey. "The Wizengamot see each House seat as a separate entity. You take each seat, and - if you like - you can have a proxy for each. You can also have one or more people hold multiple proxies."

"Hmm," mused Harry. "So I can add Gryffindor to Sirius, Slytherin to Cygnus and activate Gaunt House differently once it achieves Noble status?"

"Yes, precisely," said Dewey. "But, first, you have to take those seats in your own right. Which means, you have to attend the next Wizengamot session in person."

Harry sighed and said, "At least we'll be on summer holidays, by then. And, thankfully, it will be before our wedding in August." Harry suddenly sat up and said to Dewey, "Oh, and keep Saturday, the 7th of August free on your calendar. Daphne and I are getting married on that day and, because we're both under seventeen, it would be best if my favourite legal-eagle is there."

"Favourite legal-eagle?" asked Dewey with a smile. "I thought I was the only one."

"You are," replied a cheeky Harry. "That's why you're also my favourite."

Dewey just chuckled.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With business finally concluded, Cygnus escorted the two teens back to the Entrance Hall of Hogwarts. A quick 'see you in just over a week', and he was off, leaving the two to track down their friends.

Harry cast a quick tempus and saw that lunch was not that far away. Thinking a bit, he said, "I think we should go see Headmaster Flitwick and let him know what's going on, first."

Daphne nodded and sighed, "Yeah, you're right. We should."

Together, they headed to the Headmaster's office.

Approaching the gargoyle guarding the entrance to the stairs, Harry said to it, "Hey. Open up."

The gargoyle leapt nimbly to the side.

The two teens looked at one another before Harry shrugged and Daphne smirked. Together, they ascended the stairs.

A quick knock on the door, and a called response of "Come in!" in the Professor's lilting voice, Harry and Daphne entered the Headmaster's Office. Headmaster Flitwick was sitting at his desk.

"Oh!" he exclaimed, nearly falling out of his chair. He quickly rose and came around his desk. "Mister Potter - Miss Greengrass - what a most pleasant surprise!"

"Hello, Professor," smiled Harry as Daphne did the same. "We have important news. Do you have time to hear us out?"

"Oh, yes," he happily replied. A quick conjuration and he had a large loveseat sitting high before his desk.

Harry assisted Daphne to sit and took seat himself as the little Professor went back around his desk and took seat.

Once he appeared comfortable, he called a house elf to bring them tea and some light snacks; which were delivered immediately.

"Now," said Harry, balancing a saucer on his knee in his usual style. "You are clearly aware I was kidnapped from the school grounds, night before last?"

"Yes, of course," replied the professor. "We were also informed you had been rescued and had spent the night and yesterday in medical care. We know little else than that, I'm afraid."

"That's because information concerning what happened is being kept under wraps, for the moment," replied Harry. "However, I insisted you be told so you understand."

"Thank you, Mister Potter," replied the Professor, gravely. "I appreciate your trust."

Harry nodded and said, "In a nutshell: I was kidnapped by a plan of Riddle's - Voldemort's - masked morons; his Death Eaters."

Flitwick gasped but otherwise remained silent.

"I was kidnapped because they wanted to use me in a ritual to resurrect Riddle. The first part was to have my blood taken unwillingly; and, once Riddle was resurrected, he then wanted to kill me, personally.

"Well, the ritual worked. Riddle was resurrected. However, his intent to kill me by his own hand - didn't go as he planned," Harry smirked.

"Instead, in a one-on-one duel between him and me, I kicked his arse and killed him."

"Language, Harry," Daphne scolded him.

Glancing askance to her, he said, "Yeah, but it was apt."

"You faced Voldemort in a one-on-one duel and _defeated him?_" asked a shocked Professor Flitwick.

"I sure did!" smirked Harry.

"_How?_" exclaimed the professor.

"Professor!" exclaimed Harry, mock-hurt. "How little faith you have in me."

The professor snorted and said, "Don't get me wrong, Mister Potter; I _do_ have faith in you. But, this is a bit much to take."

"Well," replied Harry. "It was a combination of things that led to my victory. One - I interfered in his resurrection ritual, which I believe led to him being unknowingly magically weaker. The Unspeakables agree with me on that point. Two - Do you remember that paper I wrote for you last year about the Weasley twins having the same wand cores from the same animal, and how that 'effect' developed?"

"Yes, they demonstrated it for me, remember?" replied the professor.

"Yes, of course," replied Harry. "Well, I never told anyone I knew this, but I knew that Voldemort - Riddle - and I shared the same wand cores. We both had a tail feather off the same phoenix as cores. And, as so happens, our wands locked up the same way when our curses collided during the duel.

"Riddle wasn't expecting it, while I - sort of - was. When it happened, and I was able to push the spell bead back into Riddle's wand, it caused a most unusual Priori Incantatem effect. It caused the shades of people killed using that wand to be brought forth - including my parents."

"Oh, Mister Potter," said the little professor, clearly feeling for Harry. "I'm so sorry to hear that."

Harry took a sip of his tea and waved off the Professor's concern. "As well as my parents, it caused to be brought forth three other shades. With their help distracting a clearly shaken Riddle, I broke the connection and immediately fired an overpowered Blasting Hex right into the middle of his chest. The shades had gathered in front of him, blocking his vision, so he never saw it coming. When it hit, it blew a large hole right where his breast bone sat. Very soon after that, he was dead.

"The third point - my rescue party had already arrived and were waiting for me to get into a position where they could rescue me without me being killed by all the masked morons surrounding Riddle and me. That came when the Priori Incantatem effect kicked in. While I kept our wands locked, and had the protective spell cage around the pair of us, my rescue party blew the living hell out of all the masked morons. None of them survived."

"How many were there?" asked the professor, concerned.

"Sixteen," replied Harry. "And, I regret to inform you, one of them was Severus Snape."

The little professor sighed. "Some of the staff will be very sorry to learn that."

"And they will," said Harry. "But, you may only tell them he is dead; not _how_ he died. Not yet, anyway."

"Yes, I understand," nodded the Professor. "Thank you for telling me that."

"What you can be happy to take away from this, Professor," said Harry. "Is that Voldemort is truly gone, this time. The prophecy sphere that foretold Riddle and I would face each other; and that one of us would die at the hands of the other; has been completed. The Unspeakables assure me it's over. No more Voldemort, _ever_."

The Professor looked at Harry in shock, "There was a prophecy that foretold you and Voldemort would face each other and one of you would die?"

"Yes, Professor," said Harry, taking the blackened orb out of his pocket. "It was told to Dumbledore by Trelawney in late 1979 or early 1980. Dumbledore knew it and had been trying to control it - and me - ever since. That's why he sent the Longbottoms and my parents into hiding. That's why Riddle attacked my parents. That's why the Lestranges and Crouch attacked the Longbottoms. That's why he hired such a ditz as Trelawney, in the first place. And that's why Dumbledore was so bloody interested in me, personally, when I first turned up as a student here in September 1991.

"The prophecy was: _The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches - Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies. And the Dark Lord will mark him as equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not - And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives. The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies._"

"Sweet merciful Merlin!" Flitwick exclaimed. "_That_ is what this has all been about?"

Harry simply nodded.

"And it's really over?" asked the professor.

Harry held up the sphere and nodded with a smile.

The little Professor sighed in relief and not a little contentment. "Albus kept telling us he knew Voldemort would be back. He just wouldn't tell us _why_ he believed that. Now, I know."

"Dumdum still doesn't believe it, though," said Harry. "Not even when the Unspeakables showed him that the orb is now black and smoky. The man has this grand plan for what's supposed to happen, and now it won't. But, he doesn't truly believe it."

"Albus was always of firm conviction in what he believed," said Flitwick. "No one could ever shake sense into him."

"And you'll be able to tell the rest of the staff the truth in a few days," said Daphne. "However, there's more to tell you."

Looking back sharply, the Professor gestured and said, "Go on."

"First, because Harry had to claim emancipation to escape participation in the Tri-Wizard Tournament," she said, "it - enacted - a clause in our betrothal contract that states we have to be married this summer. That wedding will take place on the 7th of August; and you'll receive your official notification, shortly."

The little professor practically jumped for joy. "Ha!" he exclaimed. "Minerva - Professor MacGonagall - is going to be owing me big for this!" Calming down a little he said, "There was a bet among the staff as to when you'd actually be married. I had laid my bet you'd marry this summer due to a clause in your well-known betrothal contract."

"Betting on your student's romantic involvements, Professor?" smirked Daphne. "For shame."

However, the little half-goblin professor wasn't the least ashamed. "So, you'll be needing married quarters next year."

"Yes - and, no - Professor," replied Daphne.

"Oh?" he asked, curious.

"That brings us to the next piece of news," she replied. "When Harry killed Riddle, the Unspeakables made him claim his Houses by right of conquest. At Gringotts, this morning, it was confirmed Harry is now _also_ Lord Slytherin.

Flitwick - who was taking a sip of his tea at the time - sprayed his mouthful of tea across his desk.

Harry looked amusedly at Daphne and said, "You timed it that way on purpose."

She just smirked back as the little professor tried to apologise and vanish the mess.

"That's still not all, Professor," said Daphne.

Flitwick hesitated for a moment before Harry saw him deliberately setting his cup aside. "Go on."

"When we confirmed that Harry was the rightful Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Slytherin," she said. "The same test also showed that he was the rightful Heir of the Noble and Ancient House of Gryffindor by primogenitor; and the Head of the Ancient House of Gaunt by right of conquest.

"As of right now, Harry holds three Lordships - he will add a fourth when Gaunt is soon elevated to Noble status - a possible fifth when my father passes away - and a possible _sixth_ if Sirius Black dies without naming a different Heir."

Harry started. He'd forgotten all about the House of Black. He'd now try and get Sirius married off as soon as he could.

"Of course, as he's now the Lord of _two_ of the founders Houses - and the two senior member Houses, at that - he also _owns_ Hogwarts. You now work for Harry, here, Headmaster. And, when we return for our Fifth year next September, we'll be taking residence in the owner's chambers for either Gryffindor or Slytherin - probably Gryffindor."

Flitwick looked utterly dumbfounded. Harry rose from his seat and leaned over the headmaster's desk. He allowed, first, the Gryffindor ring to show; then, the Slytherin ring to show. He then retook his seat.

The Headmaster shook himself out of his shock and said, "Well, _that's_ a turn up for the grimoires. When do you go public with that last bit?"

"That depends on Luna Lovegood and her father," replied Harry. "I'm hoping the next edition of the Quibbler isn't released until after the students depart for the summer. If it's due earlier, I'm hoping they'll either delay it, or publish the news in the _next_ edition."

Daphne said, "We don't want to shock the student population with this. If we can hold back on the news until after they leave, that'd be fantastic. However, if it is discovered sooner, we won't deny it."

Flitwick nodded and said, "Then that'll give me time to ensure the staff aren't just as - discombobulated - by this as the students."

"Tell them earlier, if you like," said Harry. "You just can't tell them about Slytherin or Gaunt until the story of Riddle's ultimate death is released. That shouldn't be too long. But, by all means, tell them about Gryffindor."

"Oh, and a final point," said Harry, getting quite serious and a little sad. "At least four of your students lost their fathers two nights ago."

Flitwick sighed and drew out a sheet of parchment and a quill, "Go on."

"They are: Draco Malfoy, Theodore Nott, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle - that I know of. There may be others. But, those are the ones I know of who had fathers at Riddle's resurrection and were killed on the night. In Mister Malfoy's case, he also lost his godfather; Severus Snape. There may be other relationships, there, that affect other students and of which I'm currently unaware. Such as uncles."

After finishing their teas and wishing the headmaster well, the two teens headed down to the Great Hall to see if their friends had arrived for lunch. If not, they'd head up to the seventh floor and hoped they'd not pass each other on the way.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Entering the Great Hall, Harry and Daphne saw the group sitting at the Hufflepuff table, and headed over.

"Hi team!" said a very upbeat Harry. "Miss me?"

"Harry!" exclaimed Hermione, who jumped up and gave him a Hermi-hug. She was joined by the other girls, including Luna. Not wanting to be left out, Neville only hesitated just a jot before also moving in for the group hug.

When the group backed off, Hermione fired questions at him. "Are you alright? Is everything okay? When did the healers release you? Are you in any trouble? Does your family know? Do you know if you can sit the exams you missed?"

Harry suddenly raised both hands and exclaimed, "Woah! Hermione! Breathe, girl!"

Hermione's jaw snapped shut with an almost audible click before she blushed bright red.

Harry smiled and replied, "Yes, yes, last night, no, yes, and I don't know."

If anything, Hermione's blush turned even darker before she suddenly grinned and poked her tongue out at him, as the rest of the group laughed.

"Lady Hermione!" Harry mock-scolded. "That is no way for the Lady of a Noble and Ancient House to behave."

"Oh, yes it is," said Hannah. "Least. It's the way for a lady to act towards _Harry_. "

Then it was Harry's turn to poke his tongue out.

Once they finally retook their seats - and, in Harry and Daphne's case, for the first time - they settled down to eat lunch. They were interrupted by a few various well-wishers who dropped by to ensure Harry was alright. But, so far, none of them understood the true danger Harry was in - or just didn't really care.

For the most part the conversations went like this:

_"What happened to you, Harry?" asks the well-wisher._

_"I was kidnapped by a group of masked idiots," replies Harry._

_"Oh, that's terrible!" they'd exclaim. "How'd you get away?"_

_"I was rescued by family, friends and law enforcement who tracked me down," he'd reply. "I didn't get out of medical care until last night."_

_"Well, you look alright now," they'd say._

_He'd give a shrug and say, "They fixed me right up."_

And then they'd move off. Lunch - which should have taken them only about forty minutes from start to end - ended up taking over an hour and a quarter. As soon as they could, the group made a run for the seventh floor.

Once everyone - including the twins who met them on the way - was settled down, Harry went through everything that happened in greater detail; including what happened at Gringotts.

"So, wait..." said one twin.

"You're now Lord Gryffindor..."

"... _and_ Lord Slytherin?"

"Yes," replied Harry, with a grin.

"_And_ Lord Potter, _and_ soon-to-be Lord Gaunt," said Daphne.

"Plus, you'll one day - probably - be Lord Greengrass, and - maybe - Lord Black," said a grinning Neville.

"So, get out these debt lists," said Hermione, sitting forward and eager for more work. "Let's go through them. You said the Unspeakables want you to move fast, on this, didn't you?"

Daphne grinned while Harry groaned. However, he pulled the lists out of his bookbag and placed them in three piles on the table before them.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

"Alright, then," said Daphne, after they'd gone through the lists. She picked up the new sheet of parchment she'd written upon and said, "We - that is, Harry - calls in the debts for Avery, Bagman, Carrow, Crabbe, Crouch, Dolohov, Gibbon, Goyle, Jugson, Lestrange, MacNair, Malfoy, Mulciber, Nott, Ogden, Parkinson, Prince, Rosier, Selwynn, Snape, Travers, Umbridge, Wilkes and Yaxley. Where necessary, he cancels debts out due to how much he owes that family.

"And, you want to excuse the debts for Abbott, Black, Bones, Croaker, Dagworth-Granger, Davis, Diggory, Greengrass, Longbottom, MacMillan, Marchbanks, Peasgood, Smith and Weasley. And leave 'as is' for the rest. Correct?"

"Correct," sighed Harry. "I feel that, excusing those debts, shows those Houses I'm an honourable and forgiving man; and someone who would make a good ally.

"Now, since I have to move substantial funds around, anyway - to put enough into the accounts for House Gaunt to elevate it to Noble status - I may as well move funds about for the other Houses, while I'm at it. Hell, the Potter accounts are so massive no one would have a hope of even spending all the interest, let alone the principal, in ten lifetimes. I think I can put it to some good, this way."

"Alright," said Daphne. "I'll draft up the letter to send to Bloodfang of the goblins and get things moving to recover those debts."

"So fast?" asked Susan.

"Yes," said Neville. "If I was to be a betting man, I'd say the Minister will try his damnedest to seize the vaults of the deceased Death Eaters - masked morons, as Harry calls them - before Harry would get a chance to claim back the debts."

Daphne nodded and said, "They did it in the past during the last war. And, take a look at what they did to House Dagworth-Granger. Most of the funds from that House, I guarantee you, would have ended up in the private vaults of the dark families."

"Which brings me on to the next point," said Harry, as he glanced at Daphne. "Partly because I was very nearly killed two nights ago - and, because I don't want to see the situation where the Ministry gets its sticky claws into my various fortunes - Daphne and I are agreed that I need to name some Heirs Presumptive.

"I also hope that these titles will also only be temporary, as I hope - we hope - we'll start having children in a few years that we can pass these titles on to."

"First," he continued. "Neville; I'm officially recognising you as Heir Presumptive for the Noble and Ancient House of Gryffindor."

Neville started in shock and spluttered, "What? I? _Pardon?_"

"We checked, Neville," smiled Daphne. "_You_ - or, rather, your father - is likely the Heir Presumptive for Gryffindor. Harry's just skipping your father and appointing you, directly"

"I..." he said. "_Wow!_ I - just, wow!"

Harry grinned and asked, "Are you alright with that, Nev?"

"I - yeah," he replied, still in a little shock.

"Thank you," said Harry.

"Second," he said, moving on and looking at Hermione, "I'm officially recognising Hermione as Heir Presumptive for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Potter."

"_Eep!_" she exclaimed, even more startled than Neville. "_No!_ Harry - just, no. I - _why?_"

"Again - we checked," replied Daphne. "You're more than eligible for the title due to your relationship through your ancestor marrying a Potter. However, Potter is one of the titles, at least, that will be passed to our first son or daughter."

"Are you alright with that, Hermione?" asked Harry.

Still in shock, herself, Hermione replied, "As long as you promise me you'll have children to pass these titles on to - that they're only temporary - then, yes, I accept; thank you."

"Good," said Harry. "And, thank _you_."

"We still have to go through the bloodlines for Slytherin and Gaunt," said Daphne. "However, as both Houses are now 'conquests', Harry can name whoever he wants as Heirs; irrespective of bloodlines and primogenitor."

"Just so," said Harry. "That's why I'm naming Sirius as Heir Presumptive for Slytherin - and Aunt Amelia as Heir Presumptive for Gaunt."

Susan's eyes widened in recognition of the honour. "Why?" she asked, almost as startled as the other two.

Harry smiled and said, "It's in recognition of the place the House of Bones has in the hearts of the House of Potter. Aunt Amelia was named by my parents to be one of the choices for my guardianship.

"I'll need to have a Will drawn up but it cannot really be lodged until after the wedding, anyway. Any existing Wills, at that time, could be overturned because marriages tend to negate a lot of things like that. So, we'll be sitting with Dewey as soon as school winds up for the year and we'll have the relevant clauses inserted into the Wills. At the completion of the wedding ceremony on the 7th, I'll then sign the new Will."

"I'll also be having mine drawn up and sign mine at the same time," said Daphne.

Harry nodded and said, "I want to see Daphne complete her education before we start having children. And, if she's intending to undertake a post graduate study of some form - such as an apprenticeship - children will not be coming until after that without the permission of her Master or Mistress."

Daphne leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

"So, it's going to be a few years, yet, until we have children we can switch to new Heirs Presumptive," continued Harry.

"So, to wrap things up," said Daphne. "News concerning the ultimate defeat of Riddle is being withheld, for now. However, with the number of people who were involved, that night, it'll break any day. I'm surprised it hasn't already, concerning how poorly the Ministry are able to keep secrets.

"We know that Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Nott, at least, lost their fathers on that night. I suspect _that_ news will break either tomorrow morning or on Monday. It's unfair to withhold that sort of news from them - even if they _are_ complete wankers."

"Language, Harry," said both Daphne and Hermione.

With a shrug, Harry continued, "I believe Aunt Amelia's people have been running about yesterday and today informing the widows. And those widows will want to inform their sprogs. The information blackout won't last much longer after that. As majority shareholder of the Daily Prophet organisation I have a responsibility to the other investors to consider.

"And that reminds me," he said, turning to Luna. "Dear Luna; I owe you an interview for the Quibbler. If it's alright with you, I'd like it to cover what happened two nights ago, and what it means concerning Riddle and his masked morons. Can we get it out of the way, now?"

"Oh, yes, Harry," she brightly said, quite pleased. "There's an issue due on Friday, the last day of the school year. I suspect daddy may want to bring the issue forward with news like that."

"That would be perfect," smiled Harry. "But the longer he can hold off distribution for the week, the happier it'll make my life, here."

"Shall we use the dicta-quill and begin now?" she asked.

"Well, if no one else has any other questions; why not," he replied.

Harry and Daphne, with Hermione providing the part she played, gave Luna the exclusive on what happened. It took almost as long to tell about as it took to happen. However, the three of them found it quite cathartic to speak about it. Harry also included details about the prophecy, and how the prophecy was determined to have been satisfied by showing the now darkened orb.

Luna asked if she could have young Mister Creevey take a photo of Harry holding the orb. And, maybe, take a photo of the Little Hangleton graveyard where it all happened. Harry gave his approval.

When the interview was finished, Luna excused herself and moved over to one of the study carousels to write it all up.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Nott, Parkinson and a few others disappeared soon after breakfast. It wasn't too much longer before Daphne and Tracey reported to the others that the missing students were now aware of the deaths of their fathers and other loved ones. They'd been taken home and would likely not be returning until the next year.

That evening, Headmaster Flitwick made the announcement only that the missing students had lost 'loved ones' and had gone home in their grief, nothing else. However, Harry did receive a message from Professor Babbling that the Headmaster wanted a word with him after the meal. He nodded to her that he understood.

He and Daphne, after the meal, walked to the Headmaster's Office. Again, as they approached the gargoyle, Harry called, "Oi, you! Hop aside!" and the gargoyle did just that. Daphne giggled.

Entering the office, Harry saw that a large open space had been cleared before the desks. Within, was a circle of chairs, with a single loveseat. Harry almost laughed when he saw that the loveseat had the crests of Potter and Greengrass proudly displayed high up on the backrests in the centre.

In the office was Headmaster Flitwick with all the professors. They waited, quietly.

As Harry was assisting Daphne into her seat, she said, "Harry, I do believe you may be facing the inquisition."

"Naw," he replied with a grin, as he took seat himself. "They just want to ask a few questions; that's all."

Headmaster Flitwick was grinning back. "To bring you up to speed with what I've had to inform the staff, Mister Potter and Miss Greengrass, they're aware of the following facts: You were kidnapped on the night of the third task, the offenders were Death Eaters, you were then rescued by friends, family and law enforcement, and the Death Eaters were killed during the rescue.

"Next, they're also aware you've been in to Gringotts to have a more in-depth analysis of your rightful Lordships and have discovered - as well as being Lord Potter - you're also Lord Gryffindor and Lord Slytherin..." that caused a few of the Professors to squirm a little in their seats. "... And that goes with your status as Heir Presumptive for the House of Black, soon-to-be Heir Presumptive for the House of Greengrass, and that you're the current Head of House Gaunt; a House soon to be elevated to Noble status. Do I speak true?"

With a nod and a smile, Harry replied, "You do, Headmaster."

"How is this possible?" exclaimed Professor McGonagall.

Harry chuckled and said, "To learn that, I'm - _we're_ - going to need oaths from you all. The oath will only exist long enough for the official news to be released by us, or the Ministry; which should be no more than about five days."

There was a fair bit of grumbling - especially from the newer staff members - but they each gave their oath.

"To start," Harry began, "I need to take you back to late 1979 or early 1980, and how Professor Trelawney - over there - during her interview with Albus Dumbledore for the then vacant Professor of Divination slot, unknowingly dropped into her Seer state and gave a prophecy..."

Harry and Daphne then covered how they'd been working with a few people and the Department of Mysteries to hunt down the 'soul fragment containers' (they withheld using the word horcrux), what happened on the night of the third task, what Croaker had him do the next day, and going to Gringotts.

While they were then being questioned, they explained that Dumbledore knew all about the prophecy, Harry's part in it, the real identity of Voldemort, the soul containers, and everything else.

Together, they then explained how they were getting married on the 7th, and - instead of moving into student married quarters - would be moving in to either Gryffindor's or Slytherin's owner's suite on their return to school next September.

"But, no one knows where they are, or even if they actually exist," said McGonagall.

"They do, and I know where they are," said Harry. "Its part of the information contained with the rings." And he held up his hand, displaying each of the two rings, in turn.

"So, you own Hogwarts?" asked Professor Dinwaddy, the Potions Mistress.

"I and the other two rightful Heirs do, yes," he simply replied. "However, as the other two rightful Heirs have yet to be identified, I automatically act as proxy for them when it comes to Hogwarts' business.

"And, to answer the next question before it's asked - yes, that effectively makes me your boss. However, before you get upset about it, I have _no_ intention of taking the position from Headmaster Flitwick - Or, interfering, in any way, with the academic running of the school - That's entirely Headmaster Flitwick's and Deputy Headmistress Sprout's job.

"Instead, I'm going to be disbanding the School Board of Governors, during the break, and replacing them with an Advisory Board of my own choosing. The existing Board will be cut down and replaced with people I trust to advise me. Now that two of the Heirs have been found - even if both are a single student - there's no longer any need for Governors. The Board will be informed of their - disbanding - once this all becomes public.

"At that time, one of the first orders of business I will be taking care of, will be to make the positions of Headmaster and Deputy Headmistress for Professors Flitwick and Sprout permanent; unless, of course, they don't want it. But I'll discuss that with each of them privately at another time."

By the expression on the little Professor's face, Harry could already tell Flitwick would accept. He wasn't so sure about Professor Sprout.

After discussing a few other points, Harry promised to return the next day to provide them with more information. For now, the time was getting late.

Leaving the Headmaster's tower, Harry stopped Daphne and asked, "Do you want to have a look at each of the founder's suites right now?"

No," she said, after thinking about it for a few moments. "Let's wait until tomorrow and invite the group to go and have a look with us?"

Harry nodded, smiled and said, "Good idea. I'm sure they'll pester us about them if we don't take them with us."

Daphne smiled back and said, "My thoughts, exactly."

Harry then escorted Daphne back down to the Slytherin common room before heading for the Ravenclaw tower.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	77. Making Changes

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Seven - Making Changes**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At breakfast the next morning, Harry was worried about what the morning mail would bring.

He'd managed to chow down on a reasonably filling breakfast with his friends at the Slytherin table, and was drumming his fingers on the table top in a staccato rhythm while waiting for the owls to arrive.

Twice, Susan reached out and pushed down on his fingers in a futile effort to get him to stop. Both times, he looked at her and sheepishly apologised with only a smile.

When they started to stream in, he kept his eyes scanning the ceiling space looking for Hedwig. He almost missed her when she glided in, banked around over the head table, and came stooping towards him.

When she landed, he offered her both a big smile and _three_ strips of bacon, as he quickly stripped her of her load of the Daily Prophet and a letter.

The letter was from Cygnus, explaining that the story had broke.

With a sigh, he quickly opened the Daily Prophet looking for the story. He found it on the bottom of the front page.

_THE REASON FOR THE MARK_

_Many who attended the final task will remember some miscreant fired off the Dark Mark into the sky just before the final task was to be started, reports special correspondent, Monty Wordsworth. _

_This is similar to what happened during the early hours of the next morning following the Quidditch World Cup. What many don't know is that one of Hogwarts's own, our newest Lord, was abducted on the night. Through means unknown a rescue party of our finest aurors set off in pursuit._

_They eventually caught up with the culprits in a graveyard in a small village in northern England near the Scottish border, and not far from Newcastle-upon-Tyne. It is believed the perpetrators were involved in a ritual most foul when the rescuers arrived._

_A great battle commenced, during which many of our previously respected pillars of community were killed. The perpetrators fought to the last man. And our newest Lord was saved._

_Below, we have included a list of those who died, that night. We have held off on reporting them earlier, out of respect for their families._

_We have also been informed information has been withheld, for now; but will be made available once investigations are complete. We have been assured that will occur some time next week._

_We, at the Prophet, are thankful our brave law enforcement officers were on time to rescue our young hero. And hope he will soon be able to put this horrid incident behind him._

The list of names included all the ones Harry knew to have died. However, some were also missing. Thankfully, the names of the masked morons were all named as perpetrators, while the names of the fallen from the rescuers were named as rescuers.

Looking up from the article, Harry turned to Daphne and said, "Well, that wasn't as bad as I thought it as going to be."

"No," she smiled. "However, you're probably going to get further questions from other students as to what happened."

"Hmm," frowned Harry. Motioning for the others to draw in closer, he said, "If anyone asks you anything about this - other than they already have - please, just say the aurors are still conducting their investigations, and you'll have to remain silent about it until it's all made public. Hopefully, that should stave off a lot of the questions."

"Yes," said Susan. "But it will do nothing to stop the rumours flying."

"This is one of those times where the rumours will do less damage than the truth," said Harry. "Luna's article in the Quibbler will answer all their questions before they head home - I hope."

"It won't stop them," she sadly smiled.

"No, it won't," he said. "However, all they'll get out of me after that is, 'The Quibbler has all the information I'm willing to divulge on the subject. I suggest you acquire a copy of it and read it for yourself.' I think I'll be giving that answer a couple of dozen times once the story has broken wide open."

As the group sat in silence for a few moments, Daphne said, "Well; I, for one, want to go and have a look at these founders' apartments we'll probably be spending our last three years of schooling here within. Shall we go?"

With a grin in response, Harry stood and assisted Daphne to her feet. Once everyone was up, he led the way out of the Hall. Many eyes followed them, especially him. But, he was more than used to that.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Not far from the new entrance to the Infirmary on the third floor, Harry showed them a huge portrait of a roaring Gryffin that went almost to the floor. "It's behind here," he said.

He stepped forward and showed the Gryffin his ring. "I am Lord Gryffindor. Please open."

The Gryffin in the painting, which no one had seen move before, turned its head to look at Harry and the ring upon his hand. Upon seeing it, the Gryffin turned more fully to face Harry and said, "Welcome, young Lord Gryffindor. It has been many a year since I last hosted one of your line. Your password?"

Harry hesitated a bare moment before he said, "Courage under fire."

The gryffin bowed as the painting slid smoothly along the wall. Once it had gone far enough, Harry saw that the small section of wall that was below the portrait was actually the riser for a step. It was the bottom step of a half-flight leading up.

He led the others up and to a door that opened as he approached. Stepping within, he was in a small - for wont of a better term - living room. As the others filed in behind and were looking around, one of the castle elves popped in.

"Lord Gryffindor," it bowed. "Welcome, sir. We have awaited you for a long time."

"Hello," said Harry. "And, who are you?"

"I am called Frosty, my Lord," it, Frosty, replied.

Hermione snickered. "That's the name of a mascot for a muggle breakfast cereal," she said.

Harry grinned at her and said, "I remember. My cousin loved them."

Looking down at the elf he asked, "Care to show us around?"

"Of course, my Lord," the elf bowed again. He suddenly popped over to a door on the right side and said, "In here, you will find a small potions laboratory."

Harry walked over and looked within. Indeed, it was a small potions lab; complete with racks of empty potions phials, a shelf with cauldrons, draws with athames and bolines, a cabinet of empty jars ready for potions ingredients, and a wash station.

Next door, still on the right, was the armoury. Most of the wall hooks were bare, but there was obviously room for many and various weapons.

The elf then led them across to the other side of the living room. The left-hand side.

"In here is a small kitchen and pantry," he said.

Again, they filed in and looked around. The kitchen was large with a large stone oven with a huge hotplate on top. In the middle of the room was a large table with old fashioned chairs sitting around it. Off to the side was an empty pantry.

Back in the family room the elf stood at the foot of a flight of stairs that were alongside the stairs leading up from the entry.

"Up here, my Lord, is the bedroom. Hogwarts has also provided an attached bathroom."

Giving a shrug, Harry led the group up the stairs and into a huge bedroom. It was almost of a size of the living room downstairs. In the middle of the opposite wall sat a huge four poster bed draped in reds and golds. Through a door off to the side and near the opposite wall they found a huge bathroom with a sunken roman style bath. Next to that on the same wall nearer to the stairs they just ascended was a walk-in robe with plenty of hanging and shelf space.

Back in the living room, Harry gathered his friends. "Well? What do you think?"

Hermione grinned and said, "It needs modernising."

"Yeah, it does," chuckled Harry. "Hang on."

Turning to Frosty he said, "Frosty, can you - modernise - this place for us? Lady Daphne and I may want to use this place when we return to school on the 1st of September, next year."

"Frosty can do that," he replied, before drawing himself up. "Frosty would be _honoured_ to do that."

"Thank you, Frosty," smiled Harry. "I shall leave things in here with you, then."

Turning to the others he said, "Shall we go and have a look at Salazaar's private quarters?"

"Oh; yes, please!" said Daphne.

As they walked down the stairs, the back of the portrait of the Gryffin slid to the side, allowing them egress.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Leading them just down from Godric's private quarters, Harry came to a blank section of wall. He scanned it carefully.

"What are you looking for?" asked Susan.

"There's supposed to be a small carving of a snake in the middle of one of the bricks, here somewhere," he replied, not taking his eyes off the wall.

The others than moved forward scanning the large stones bricks.

"Here," said Hannah, indicating a section of wall.

Harry moved over and looked for himself. He saw it carved in low relief directly into the stone.

"Okay, back up," he said backing away a little.

When he was a couple feet away he concentrated on the snake carving and, in parseltongue, said, §Open in the name of Lord Slytherin.§

The small carving seemed to enlarge and the snake - a basilisk, he could see, now - turned to look at him. He showed it the ring.

It looked to study the ring for a few moments before it said, §I recognise you, Lord Slytherin. A new password, if you would?§

Concentrating a little to speak English again, Harry firmly but quietly said, "Cunning and guile."

The snake carving nodded once, accepting the password, before it reverted to its normal form. As soon as it did, the bricks started to fold out of the way, similar to the portal into Diagon Alley. The carving of the snake had moved to a position alongside the arch.

"Wow!" whispered Tracey.

"Wow, indeed," smiled Harry back.

When the movement ceased, they were looking at an archway that led down a half flight.

Moving down the stairs, Harry came to a door. He opened it and stepped into a just as large, if not larger, living room as the rooms of Gryffindor, now a floor above them.

Again, an elf popped in. "Greetings, Lord Slytherin," it bowed.

"Hello, there," said Harry. "And you are?"

"I am called Maisey," it replied.

"Care to show us around?" he asked with a smile.

The Slytherin rooms were, indeed similar to the Gryffindor suite. However, the potions laboratory was much larger, and the armoury much smaller. The kitchen was of a similar scale. And they were flipped with the potions lab and armoury of the left and kitchen on the right.

However, instead of one, huge, master bedroom up a short flight of stairs; this flight of stairs led down to two similar sized bedrooms. Each had its own bathroom and walk-in robes.

"Why two?" asked Tracey.

"Lord _Salazaar_ Slytherin often had his sister come to stay," replied Maisey.

Back in the living room Harry thought hard about something. He had an idea.

"Maisey?" he asked.

"Yes, my Lord?"

"Can the apartments of Gryffindor and Slytherin be linked through an internal flight of stairs?" asked Harry.

The little elf took on an expression that looked like she was staring off into the distance for a few moments, before she snapped out of it and looked back at Harry. "Yes, my Lord," she said.

With an almost audible groan a new doorway appeared alongside the door leading to the egress. "Through there, my Lord," said Maisey.

Harry walked over and opened the new door. Beyond was a narrow flight of stairs leading to the right. He quickly ascended them and opened the door at the top on the right, again. Opening the door and walking in, he found himself back in the Gryffindor suite living room.

"Excellent!" he beamed. "Maisey! Frosty!"

The two elves appeared standing alongside one another.

"I want these suites to stay interconnected just as they are, alright?"

"Yes, my Lord," they both said with a small bow each.

Daphne giggled. "Only you would think of linking them to make one massive apartment."

Harry grinned back.

"And what are you going to do with all this room?" asked Tracey. "You've now got three bedrooms with their own bathrooms, two kitchens, two armouries, two living or common rooms, and two potions labs spread over an effective four levels."

"Now that I know I can do it - and, _have_ done it," he replied. "I'm going to have to give it a lot of thought. However, I'm thinking of converting one of the living rooms into a collective study area and dining room, one of the potions labs and one of the kitchens into bedrooms for guests, and one of the armouries into a personal library cum office."

"So, five bedrooms, then," said Tracey. "Thinking of starting that family early, are you?" she smirked.

Harry started before he realised she was just teasing. "Well, I was thinking - since Daphne would be living here with me from September - you might want one of the existing bedrooms in the Slytherin suite.

"However," he sighed, "since you're going to pick on me..."

Tracey squealed and just about tackled him to the ground with her big hug. "No! I was just teasing! I'll be good! I promise!"

Laughing as she clung to him, babbling away, the others joined in.

"Come on," he said, chuckling. "Let's go back down to the Slytherin suite and see what we can do about converting and modernising the combined suites."

He led the way back down to the Slytherin living room.

Calling Maisey and Frosty again, he said, "Alright, you two. Here's what I want you to do to convert the two suites, and to have them ready before the 1st of September..."

The elves listened closely as Harry gave them their instructions. His friends, especially Daphne, gave their own suggestions.

Both elves were eager to get started.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

That afternoon, Harry and Daphne rejoined the Headmaster in his offices for an extensive planning session.

"Something I want each member of staff to do over the coming few weeks, is to make a list of any improvements they want to make in the school," said Harry. "Tell them to go nuts with it. I have a great deal of money sitting around doing barely anything of value and I'm willing to spend, spend, spend. Tell them to hand their lists of suggestions to you to be correlated. Then, you and we will make decisions."

Flitwick was madly writing away as Harry was giving voice to his thoughts. The little man was almost bouncing in his seat in excitement.

"I'll also be dumping money into a - 'Hogwarts Improvement Fund' - which can be drawn upon to send staff on a fact-finding trip to other schools of magic to learn what they can of how they do things there. I'd not be surprised, in the _least_, if there were many things other schools do that can be implemented here.

"Some of the things I want included in those lists will be replacements for the school brooms, the telescopes, potion ingredients, cuttings and seedlings for the greenhouses, worn out furniture, et cetera," he said. "I also want to see the library enlarged and include more copies of many of the books that are often used. Too often, students cannot get a book because someone else already has it checked out."

"Just those?" asked Flitwick.

"Definitely not," Harry replied firmly. "I expect to see a whole raft of new books included. We should also be stocking at least half a dozen of each book that appears on the students' booklists for every year. They'll be available for those students who have lost or irreparably damaged their own."

Flitwick was busily writing things down, again. "Madam Pince will be pleased," he mused.

Harry snorted before he continued, "I also intend to revamp the pay structure so Professors are better paid. I want pay levels at the point where applicants are literally _pleading_ to be selected. To be recognised as a Professor will, again, be considered a high honour, and someone worthy of great respect."

'That will get the staff on Harry's side, right there,' thought the Professor. "You're not bribing the staff to make them accept all this, are you?" he grinned.

"Definitely not," replied Harry. "Because, in return for that, I'll expect greater professionalism from the - my - staff. Plus, I want the four Head of House positions to be removed from existing Professors. The four Heads of Houses will have _only_ that position. They won't be Professors, but they will be _entirely_ responsible for the students in each of their Houses. I'll be expecting them to spend most of their time looking out for the best interests of their students, including being available to their students at all times of the day; if, for nothing else, just being a shoulder to cry on because they're feeling homesick.

"The four Heads of the Houses will also be the magical guardians for the muggleborn students in their Houses; unless one is organised for them, in advance. So, they need to be wholly focussed on the well-being of the students under their care.

"I know that won't be popular; but, Professors will be Professors only. Their role is to teach. The _only_ exception to that rule will be the role of Deputy head. That person, as well as being responsible to teach, will be the final arbiter of discipline of students. The Head, you, will be the final arbiter of discipline of staff.

"Professors Sprout, Babbling, Sinistra and Vector will need to decide whether they want to give up their roles as Heads of each of the four Houses, or lose their status as Professors to _be_ those Heads of Houses. Sorry, but I do not feel they can designate sufficient time to _both_ jobs to do justice to _either_ job."

Harry waited until the Headmaster stopped writing and looked up again. "That will not be a popular decision, Lord Potter," he said. "However, I can see where you're coming from. You do not want to see another Miss Lovegood situation, do you?"

"Exactly, Professor; to name only one example," replied Harry. "But, I've learned the bullying can often be even worse in Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses. It's just not as long term or as many students involved."

The Headmaster nodded but had a slight pinch to his cheeks as he was clearly reminiscing about Harry's second year.

"Headmaster, I also task you with finding, over the summer break, four trustworthy and empathic individuals who epitomise each of the Houses to become the Heads of the Houses. They will not be recognised as Professors but _will_ have the authority to give and deduct House points, and issue detentions. They will also be recognised as fully-fledged members of staff.

"As I mentioned in the staff meeting, I won't directly interfere. However, things need to change - quite radically, in some instances - and I've got the gold to throw at the problem," he continued.

Looking over to where the Sorting Hat sat on its shelf next to where Fawkes's perch once stood, Harry said, "As for you, Hat..."

"Yes, Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor?" it replied.

The little professor appeared a little startled when Harry chose to converse directly with the ancient magical artefact.

"You are, without doubt, the pre-eminent expert on the history of the school. Why none of the recent Heads have ever sought your advice is beyond my ken," said Harry.

"Thank you, my Lord," said the Hat. "Those who _should_ have been seeking my advice stopped doing so centuries ago."

"Well," said Harry. "I'm fixing that."

Turning back to Flitwick, he said. "Hat will provide you, if you ask, with the _real_ history of the school; and not the trash you've probably read and believed to be truth. Hat is a font of both great wisdom and great knowledge on the school, and how it was run in its infancy. I want this school back to that standard with modern methods complementing, rather than fighting against, those issues. I want the truth taught.

"For example," he said, turning once more to the Hat. "Hat, was Salazaar Slytherin a pureblood extremist?"

"Ha!" said the Hat. "Sal was what you would now consider a half-blood. Godric and Helena were first generation - what are now called muggleborns. Rowena was the only one born of two parents who were magicals. And both parents were first generation magicals."

That left Flitwick quite stunned.

"And why do you think people believe him to have been a pureblood supremacist?" asked Harry.

"Because of the ongoing strife with witches and wizards being persecuted, Sal wanted to find and bring to the castle any child who showed accidental magic at a very early age, and foster them with magical parents. In other words, he wanted to take them from their non-magical parents - by force, if necessary - to protect them from persecution and harm.

"Sal was not against muggleborns; he was against muggleborns being raised _outside_ of the magical community. He wanted to ensure their protection. It was that idealism that saw him at odds with God, Row and Hel. That's why he left. The fighting broke out later among his supporters and the others."

Turning back to the Headmaster, Harry said, "See? Hat has all that knowledge - all that truth - at your disposal. He was ignored because pureblood supremacists don't want people to _learn_ the truth. What he knows, if shared, will turn many of the belief systems of Wizarding Britain on its head. I just hope you won't be like the last few iterations of Headmasters and ignore him."

Stuttering a little, shocked, Flitwick replied, "I assure you, Lord Potter, I will not. It had just not occurred to me, before, to make use of the Hat's knowledge, like that."

Harry smiled and said, "Thank you. And, I'm sure Hat is only too eager to assist."

"I am," said the Hat. "It will be nice to fall back into the role of trusted advisor, once again."

Smiling, Harry said, "You may even want to consider him being a guest lecturer in History of Magic. Oh, yes! You're also going to need to hire a new History of Magic Professor. I'm going to banish Binns for good. We don't just need a good History Professor; we need a _great_ History Professor. We need one who will replace the dearth of history taught, with the abundance of history available. If the students are not taught what led to the rise of dark lords of the past, we'll just get more of them.

"An 18th century Irish Statesman, Edmund Burke, said, 'Those who don't know history, are destined to repeat it'."

Flitwick nodded and wrote down a couple more points.

"Now, this point you can consider cast in iron," said Harry adopting a stern countenance and staring at the new Headmaster. "Under _no_ circumstances is Albus Dumbledore allowed onto school grounds, in _any_ capacity. Do whatever you need to do to set the wards accordingly. If he uses Fawkes to get in, I want him automatically and immediately bounced right _out_ again.

"I also understand we will probably have to allow a portrait of him to hang in here, if for nothing else but historical reasons. However, that portrait is to be static _only_. I don't want him poisoning the thoughts of future Headmasters with his '_Greater Good_' nonsense."

Flitwick sadly smiled and said, "You really don't like the man, do you?"

With a snort, Harry replied, "The depths to which I _despise_ the man is infinite."

Harry thought for a bit before he said, "It's not as if the man is evil. He's just - uncaring of the individual. When he looks at a situation, he sees the forest, but not the trees; and not the wildlife that exists within that forest, especially nor the individuals.

"Dumbledore thought of me as a weapon. A weapon he was attempting to mould into a particular form. Then he planned on aiming me at Riddle, and setting me loose to deal with him. In other words, I was not even considered by him to have any say in the matter. The prophecy said I would face Riddle in a fight to the death, and Dumdum was bent on ensuring that would happen. Everything else - including the fact I was a living, breathing human being - was just a nuisance to his plans he had to work around to achieve his goal.

"Hell, it wasn't even important to him I win the fight; just that I face him. If I lost the fight, them the prophecy was still complete. That then meant _anyone_ could face Riddle and, sooner or later, _someone_ would kill him. I think Dumdum even hoped it would be him.

"However, if I did win the fight, then Dumdum could step forth and say it was all according to the plan _he_ created. That _he_ shaped me to be Riddle's killer. And, thus, ensuring Dumdum's god-like reputation and inclusion in history's pages as one of the greatest wizards ever to walk the earth; if not _the_ greatest. It was all part of his 'Greater Good'."

Harry sighed as Daphne leaned in to hug him as Harry practically spat out the last few words.

"And how do you know this, Lord Potter?" Flitwick quietly asked, clearly curious.

"Dumdum may be a Master Occlumens; but, even _he_ is not immune to the efforts of the Unspeakables," replied Harry. "He didn't even know they were doing it, either. While they were speaking with him about how the prophecy he'd just spent the last fifteen plus years of his life planning schemes around was now completed, they dosed him with potions and dragged the information out of him.

"And Dumdum _still_ will not accept that the prophecy is complete. He believes their showing him the darkened orb is one of Riddle's tricks. He _still_ believes his great plan is the only answer and, as his plan has not run its course, Riddle must still be alive and will soon be back.

"He's also waiting for the moment when the Board of Governors and the Ministry beg him to retake the Headmaster position, or some other position of power such as Minister. He's even prepared what he's going to say when they do. How humble he will be while still portraying the role of a great statesman.

"In other words, he's bonkers."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As the week progressed without classes, other than their being given assignments to complete during the summer break, Harry ran around getting business done.

He and Daphne visited, via the floo in the owner's suites, Gringotts. He created his Hogwarts Improvement Fund and keyed in Headmaster Flitwick and himself to access it. When he handed the key to the Headmaster and told him there was now one million Galleons sitting in the vault waiting for him to use it, the little professor looked like he was going to faint.

He also used the opportunity to move major funds about among his other Lordships. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin were on firm financial ground, so he just instructed Bloodfang to have at them and make him money. A job the goblin dove into with much glee. The goblin's only restriction was 'no illegal stuff'.

The Gaunts did not have a vault, and their account was in arrears, so he opened up a new vault for that House, and transferred from the Potter vaults to the new Gaunt vault another one million Galleons. Bloodfang received the same instructions for that account as with Gryffindor and Slytherin.

During the meeting, Daphne handed to the very happy goblin their written instructions on what outstanding debts he was to go after, which ones he was to 'excuse' and which to leave alone.

Before they were even out of the office, Bloodfang was madly writing away and barking out instructions in the goblin tongue to supranumeraries, who were getting called into his presence.

Bloodfang was so happy with Harry, he even allowed the two to leave via his own personal floo connection in the office - without charge. They floo'ed directly back to Hogwarts.

When Harry told the little professor about the behaviour of Bloodfang, Flitwick roared with laughter. When he'd finally settled down enough to talk, the Headmaster said, "That sounds like the happiest goblin I've ever heard of!"

"I think it was Harry's instructions for the Gryffindor, Slytherin and Gaunt vaults that really got him going," said Daphne with a grin. "Harry said, 'go make me money, just don't get me involved in illegal stuff'; and then set him loose."

Flitwick roared with laughter again.

Dewey also sent Harry a stack of documents that he needed Harry to sign to make a start on getting House Gaunt elevated. None of them required signing by a blood quill, so Harry was happy to sign.

Dewey did inform him, though, that he'd need to go into the office during the first week of the holidays to sign some documents as they did needed signing with a blood quill. However, there weren't that many.

Luna approached Harry on the Wednesday evening to let him know what she felt was bad news. "I'm sorry, Harry," she meekly said. "But, Daddy needs to publish a day earlier because he thinks he's going to need the extra day of printing time. We can't push back our departure for Sweden to search for the Crumple-Horned Snorkacks to a day later, otherwise we would have done just that."

Harry gathered the girl in a big hug and said, "That's quite alright, dear Luna. I'm just happy we got as many days as we did. I kind of expected the story to break much sooner."

Holding the upset girl out at arm's length, he calmly said, "Thank you for telling me. It means I can now prepare myself for what's going to happen tomorrow."

As Aunt Amelia, Uncle Algie and the others were also already aware of the story, Harry only had to let them know the issue was coming out a day sooner than anticipated. He sent off Hedwig with the letter to Aunt Amelia, and used school owls and his mirror for the rest.

Harry wasn't concerned they'd be upset with the news, as each was already prepared for when the story broke.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, the entire group gathered and headed down for breakfast early and sat at the Gryffindor table. They all wanted to ensure they'd be finished eating before the mail owls arrived.

As he'd kept an eye on the head table, as soon as Harry saw Professor Flitwick arrive, he hurried over and whispered, "Q Day!"

That was their code for when Harry expected The Quibbler to come out. The professor looked back and firmly nodded his head. Reaching into the pocket of his robes he withdrew a set of small clips of parchment and made sure each piece was handed to an already attending professor, or placed on their plate before their chair for when they would arrive, as Harry headed back to his seat.

Everything was now in place.

After they'd finished breaking their fast, Harry sat back with a cup of tea in his hand and waited.

Though it felt like hours, it was only about fifteen minutes later when the mail owls flocked in through the owl windows in the peak of the ceiling.

Harry quickly handed his strips of bacon set aside for Hedwig to the snowy owl as he released her of her package.

He quickly opened the paper and immediately found the article. Unbelievably, to him, it was on the front page. Though, it _was_ 'below the fold'.

He quickly scanned it into his memory and handed the paper to Daphne. And, while scanning the House tables, he read it in his mind's eye.

He quickly determined it was Luna's best work. It contained everything about what had happened. And, it even included quotes from Madam Bones and Unspeakable Croaker. Croaker _never_ spoke to the media, so it was a real scoop for the girl.

Both Aunt Amelia and Uncle Algie confirmed Riddle had been resurrected on the night; and that Harry had killed him again; this time in a one-on-one duel. They even managed to include a small wizarding photo of Harry striking Riddle with the 'killing blow' of a Bludgeoning Hex to the chest. There was nothing about him using the Cutting Charm to decapitate the body.

Uncle Algie also confirmed that they knew how Riddle had managed to come back and that, this time, he was _never_ going to be coming back. The threat of Voldemort was over, for good. A wizarding photograph also showed 'an' Unspeakable in full Unspeakable robes with the cowl up distorting his face, while holding up a glass container with Riddle's head within.

When he'd finished reading the article, Harry looked at Luna and said, "Girl, I am _most_ impressed! _Outstanding_ work!"

Luna gave a sheepish little smile and blushed. He'd never been able to make her blush before, no matter how ribald he spoke around her. Damn, the girl even managed to make _him_ blush by out-ribalding him in return!

As others in their group finished reading the article they each congratulated her. Harry thought he even caught tears of happiness in the girl's eyes.

Catching her eye again, Harry said to her, "Dear Luna, irrespective of the sums agreed to in our little contract, you have my permission to sell that article to other media organisations and get whatever you can for it. Use the money to fund your excursions, or use it to fund your education, it's up to you."

Luna dropped her eyes and nodded her head. But, Harry could tell she was right pleased.

Harry watched as other students who received the Quibbler read the article. Some looked over at him in awe; others looked over at him in shock; but, most didn't know what to make of the whole thing. Harry just drew in his magic - enough to make his eyes glow just a little - and held it as he smirked back at all of them.

The first major point occurred when one of the Slytherin students screeched, "_WHAT?!_" and stood up holding the paper in his hands.

"He _can't_ be!" the boy screamed, angrily staring straight at Harry with both fear and loathing. "It's _not_ true!"

That was just what Harry needed to happen. He'd prepared for this.

Slowly standing up, still oozing a little magic, Harry slowly walked from the Gryffindor table to stand just in front of the head table. He kept an eye on the Slytherin table, and the angry student in particular, the whole way. Everyone was silent. No one made a sound.

Once in position he shot his wand into his hand and slowly raised it into the oath position.

"I, Harry James Potter, swear on my magic_ and my life_, that I _did_ face in one-on-one magical combat, in a duel to the death, the wizard Tom Marvolo Riddle, who also went by the soubriquets Dark Lord and Lord Voldemort; that I did _kill_ him in that battle; and that all other information provided concerning that battle in today's issue of the Quibbler is true and correct in _every_ instance. So say I; so mote it be!"

Harry flashed as the magic recognised the oath. Stretching his arm to point his wand out towards the doors to the Entrance Hall, he cast, "_Expecto Patronum!_"

Prongs leapt forth in all his glory. He appeared in form, an almost solid, misty silver. Harry held him there and pumped more magic into him as he then took on an almost golden tinge.

While continuing to hold the patronus, Harry smirked and quietly, but clearly enough, said, "Enough said."

He then released the form to fade away.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	78. The Word's Out

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Eight - The Word's Out**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Looking across the four House tables, Harry said, "Everything I'm prepared to share of what happened on that night, is in that article of the Quibbler. If you do not receive a copy of the Quibbler, Miss Luna Lovegood - sitting over there at the Gryffindor tables - will organise for you to receive a subscription for it..."

Luna waved to everyone with a happy grin.

Harry smirked back and continued, "For the first time in my life - and, I'm sad to say, probably not for the last time - I killed someone a week ago, tonight. That he was considered the most evil bastard around - and he literally _was_ a bastard, by the way - was beside the point. It is not easy - nor should it be - to take the life of another person. It does not matter if it is in self-defence, as it was with me. I knew it was kill, or _be_ killed. It still gutted me to do it.

"I also know there are going to be those out there - in the wizarding world - who are going to think to themselves - 'If I face off against him, and beat him, I'll make a name for myself'. If that's you, forget it now.

"The healers with the Unspeakables have determined I have three things going for me that only a very rare few possess of any. That I have all three, they've _never_ seen before. One is, I have preternaturally _fast_ reflexes. You all know how good I am as seeker in Quidditch. I swear to you now, as seeker, I'm barely even trying. Even riding a Firebolt, I think the broom is too sluggish for what I want it to do.

"The second is, I have an _incredibly_ high pain tolerance. Receiving injuries that would otherwise keep normal witches and wizards off their feet, will barely slow me down. Riddle - Voldemort - cast the Cruciatus Curse on me _twice_ before I duelled him. I _still_ kicked his arse.

"And the third is..." Harry arced his power level right up to his current maximum, and was leaking magic at a phenomenal rate, "... I'm _bloody_ powerful." He let his magic ease back down to where his eyes were only slightly glowing. "They've not been able to properly gauge just _how_ powerful, yet." (Because, he wouldn't let them. But, he wasn't telling these kids that.)

"Please - I _beg_ you - don't make me kill you," he continued in the quiet and firm voice he'd been using. "However - if you make me come after you, by going after me or mine - I will _not_ hesitate to do so.

"Professor Dumbledore was worried I was going, or am, dark. I am not. However, neither am I light. I am grey. That means, in real combat, I will not fight by any stupid rules. That also means, I would make a poor auror. Instead, I will use any and all means available to me to put you down _fast_ and _hard_. If I have to kill you to do it. So be it. I will not be casting Stunners."

He then gave a small bow and said, "Thank you for listening," and walked back to the Gryffindor table and his friends.

He didn't know who started it; but, as he walked back to his friends, the applause began. It got louder as he rounded the end of the table and walked down to sit beside his love - his betrothed. It continued on for quite a while after he finally took his seat and earned a kiss from Daphne before Professor Flitwick, who had been clapping just as wildly as the others only a few seconds earlier, fired off a couple of bangs to regain quiet.

When the Hall finally quieted down, again; he stood and said, "Lord Potter has done us a great service. He has rid us of a great evil. And - like you - I am very much relieved the threat of the one who called himself Lord Voldemort is gone; this time, for good.

"However, Lord Potter - or, as he prefers, just-call-me-Harry - has asked you not bother him and his friends by asking questions about what happened last Thursday. Or, anything about how he knows Voldemort - Riddle - has gone for good. Much of it has been declared a national secret by the Unspeakables. What you _are_ allowed to know is all contained in that article in the Quibbler.

"And now that you have broken your fasts, I'll allow you to remain for a little while longer before I insist you head off to your last Thursday morning classes for the year," he smiled before saying, "I believe your professors have yet more homework assignments for you to collect. That is all."

He then sat down again and people -students and staff, alike - were happily discussing the phenomenal news they'd just learned of that morning.

Harry was wondering how they were going to accept things when they found out he was also both Lord Gryffindor and Lord Slytherin.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Surprising Harry, very few people actually did approach him to see if they could discover more information. However, he quickly realised they knew he wouldn't tell them. They just wanted a chance to be near him and to talk to him. Some just wanted to give their thanks. Some just wanted to shake the hand that held the wand that killed Voldemort. And some wanted a photograph of him.

At lunch time, Harry sought out young Colin Creevey.

Taking the boy, whose hero-worship of him had just jumped up a couple more notches, aside, Harry asked, "Colin, how would you like to make a little bit of money doing what you love to do?"

Looking back in awe, Colin only nodded his head in response.

Harry smiled and asked, "You still have your camera, right? Plenty of film?"

Again with the nod.

"Excellent," said Harry. "After class, this afternoon, I'm going to go get changed into some nice robes, tidy myself up a bit, and make myself available to you, for you to take a few wizarding photographs.

"In return, I'll give you some Galleons so you can buy heaps of photographic paper and some nice, new, equipment. And I want you to - run off - a heap of the best photographs you take. When people then ask me for a photograph of me, I'll send them to you; alright?"

Again with the nod.

Harry chuckled and said, "Alright, Colin. I suspect I'll be out of the last class pretty early - seeing as I'm only there to collect details of my homework assignment - so I'll meet you in Great Hall. Fair enough?"

And yet again with the nod.

"Do you have any questions of me, Colin?" asked a grinning Harry.

This time he received a head shake.

Harry outright laughed and placed his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You're alright, Colin." Then he left to rejoin his friends at the Ravenclaw table.

"I think you broke Creevey the older," said Neville indicating with his chin and a wide grin.

Harry looked back and, sure enough, Colin appeared to be in a daze sitting at the Gryffindor table.

"What did you _say_ to him?" asked Blaise, with his own grin.

"I just made him feel as if all his Christmases had come at once," replied Harry with a grin of his own. "I asked him if he could take a wizarding photograph or two of me, this afternoon.

"As soon as we get released from our last class - Ancient Runes - I'm going to whizz off and get changed into some fancy robes, and meet him back here in the Great Hall. I'll leave it up to him where those photographs are taken; he's a bloody good photographer and shows real talent."

"In that case," said Daphne, "You can wait for me. I want some photographs of _both_ of us - _together_."

Harry leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Anything for you, my love. Just - please - don't take too long getting ready. We need to be done in time to go and get changed back for the Leaving Feast."

Daphne harrumphed, as if to say, 'How _dare_ Harry accuse her of taking too long to get dressed'.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Their double Ancient Runes class lasted only long enough for them to be congratulated by Professor Babbling for an excellent year, and for her to let them know what their assignments would be, before they were released.

Harry made his way back to the Ravenclaw tower and soon changed. However, he knew he could take his time, a little, because Daphne would take a while to get ready; no matter what she said.

He was about to don one of his formal robes with the Potter Crest when he stopped and had a thought.

"Petey!" he called.

With a slight pop, Petey appeared next to him. "Yes, Master Harry?" asked his 'head' elf.

Kneeling down Harry indicated the Potter Crest on his robe. "How long would it take you to have the Gryffindor and Slytherin Crests appear directly under the Potter Crest and side-by-side right here and here?" he said, indicating the two places.

"The Hogwarts's elves can do that in a few moments, Master Harry," said Petey.

"That's what I thought," said Harry as he stood up and tossed the robe onto his bed. "Can you please take that robe, get it done, and bring it straight back here for me, Petey?"

"Yes, Master Harry!"

Petey and the robe immediately vanished. But, as he promised, he was back a few moments later. The robe was folded neatly on the bed.

Harry reached over and picked it up. Then, holding it by the collar, he allowed it to drop out to full length. He then held the material open so he could see the handiwork of the elves.

It was perfect. Harry saw that the two new Crests were also a little smaller than the Potter Crest and evenly spaced from the exact centre line below his personal Crest.

Turning to Petey, he said, "Tell the elves they did a perfect job, Petey; and thank them for me, will you? And thank _you_, too."

"Yes, Master Harry. Thank you, Master Harry," and Petey popped away.

Harry quickly donned the robe and took a look at himself in his full length mirror. A quick shaving Charm upon himself - and localised Invisibility Charm on the two new Crests, until he was ready to display them - and he was ready to go. He'd cast the other photography Charms upon himself when young Colin was ready.

Hesitating for just a moment, he went to his personal bookshelf and pulled out the book on photography charms he'd bought back in first year. He'd give that to Colin as a personal thank you. His ever-present money pouch was affixed to his belt, ready to hand some Galleons over to the boy.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry calmly sat the Ravenclaw table waiting for both Daphne and Colin to show up. A few of the more timid students kept just staring at him; and turning away with a blush when he looked in their direction.

Colin came rushing in and looking around about twenty minutes later. He almost appeared to be in a panic. When he saw Harry he visibly sagged in relief, and came hurrying over.

Harry grinned at the boy and told him to take a seat, indicating the bench opposite.

"Alright," said Harry, after the boy was - somewhat - settled. "We're going to have to wait for Lady Daphne. When she learned I wanted some photos taken she was insistent she join me. Is that alright with you?"

"Yeah!" Colin replied, with his head almost frantically bobbing. "Sometimes, it's easier to work with and pose couples than individuals."

"Thank you," said Harry. He then slid the photography cantrips and charms book to the younger boy and said, "You'll find these most interesting. If you haven't already purchased similar books for yourself - or, even that particular one - there's plenty of charms and cantrips within that can be used to give your - models - more zazz."

Popping his wand out, Harry said, "For example," and cast upon himself his favourite cantrip to make his hair sit the way he liked, and his eyes sparkle.

"Oh, wow!" said Colin. "That's how you did it."

Harry nodded and said, "That book's full of very similar charms for both men and women, and even children."

He then reached into his money pouch and withdrew about twenty Galleons. He placed them in two piles on the table between them and said, "There's twenty. If you need more, owl me."

"Oh, no! Wow! That's heaps!" replied the boy, his eyes almost seeming to pop out of his head staring at the two piles.

"Relax, Colin," chuckled Harry. "Just put those in your pocket, or money pouch, or whatever."

The boy quickly complied and also pulled his camera out of his bag. "I've got plenty of film, too!" he said. "But the gold will really help to buy more."

"Help? I don't want you to be out of pocket doing this, Colin," said Harry. "I want you to make a profit. Don't hesitate to ask for more if you need it."

"Okay, Harry," said the younger boy.

Colin was telling Harry about some of the extra equipment he wanted to buy during the break and Harry was telling him to let him know what he wanted. Harry intended to help the boy out as much as he could, when Daphne walked in.

Catching sight of her out of the corner of his eye and looking up, Harry said, "She's here."

Both boys rose as Daphne came over. "Alright," she said. "I told you I wouldn't be long."

Harry smiled and said, "Of course not." And kissed her cheek. Turning to the other boy, he said, "Well, Colin. Where would you like us to go?"

Glancing out one of the windows, he looked back and said, "While we have the light, I'd like to take a few shots outside, if you don't mind."

"That sounds lovely," said Daphne.

Colin took them away from the castle, a bit, and took some shots with the castle in the background. Then some down near the lake. Some were taken with the main doors of the castle in the near background. There were photographs with Harry on his own, Daphne on her own, and both, together. Daphne even took one of Harry and Colin with their arms 'manly' about each other's shoulders.

Inside, Colin took photographs with many recognisable features in the background. A few from the Entrance Hall with the open doors of the Great Hall behind. A couple in the vacant potions lab - much to Professor Dinwaddy's displeasure. Quite a few in the library. Daphne wanted one in front of the opened door to the Slytherin common room, and one with Harry in front of the Ravenclaw Eagle.

Swearing Colin to secrecy, Harry had a photo taken in front of the opened door to the Gryffindor suite with both his other two Crests showing. He had that one taken when Daphne recognised the time and 'scarpered' down to Slytherin dorms to change.

Colin considered himself already ready, so didn't have to go. Harry was going just as he was dressed. He had a reason for that.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry waited for Daphne at the foot of the stairs leading down to the dungeons from the Entrance Hall. Again, he had the Crests for Houses Gryffindor and Slytherin hidden with an Invisibility Charm.

One of the last to arrive, he escorted both Daphne and Tracey to the Slytherin table, smirked at both and walked up and around the back of the head table, taking seat at Headmaster Flitwick's left hand.

From his higher than usual chair, Headmaster Flitwick turned and grinned at him. Harry grinned back.

All the students were looking at him in shock and whispering with their table mates.

Once it appeared noise was going to get a bit rowdy, Flitwick stood on his seat and addressed the student body. Deputy Headmistress Sprout tapped a little gong to gain quiet for the Headmaster to speak.

"Yes," called the Headmaster, once he had relative silence. "Lord Potter - rather than _Mister_ Potter - has joined us at the head table, tonight; in a place of honour. He will also be formally addressing you all at the completion of the feast."

Hesitating a moment, just for the gravitas of the situation, he continued, "Another year has now passed us by. Tomorrow morning you head for your homes to enjoy a summer break. Sadly, due to the Tri-Wizard Tournament, it is not as long a break as you have come to expect."

That received a few angry mutters from some students.

With a calming gesture, he continued, "Our Seventh Years, however, need not concern themselves with the summer break. They leave us, in the most part, for good. Congratulations to our graduating Seventh Years."

This time there were quite a few cheers from the other end of the Hall.

"For our returning students, you have almost nine weeks to clear your minds, refresh your bodies, and lift your hearts, before we return for the 1995-96 school year. Plenty of time to accomplish that.

"Without much further ado..." he said as he glanced over at Ron Weasley, who appeared to be salivating in anticipation, "... and because it appears some are so hungry they're about to gnaw their own limbs off..." that earned him a few chuckles, especially those sitting around the aforementioned boy, "... Let us feast!"

And the tables filled with the food for the feast.

Harry spent the evening talking with Professor Flitwick and Professor Sinistra, who sat to his own left. They spoke about school matters, and Harry even inquired about their holiday plans. He also kept glancing up and around the Hall; especially, towards Daphne.

He could see Daphne and Tracey at Slytherin, Luna at Ravenclaw, Susan and Hannah at Hufflepuff, and Neville and Hermione at Gryffindor - were all being pumped for information. When it appeared Luna was about to wilt under the almost barrage of questions coming her way, Harry allowed his magic to flow out of his eyes and glared at those who appeared to be badgering the girl. It took only a couple of them to look to him, see his expression and visibly flinch away. Word passed between the offenders very quickly, and the pressure on the girl eased right off.

She looked back to him with a smile of gratitude.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As the Feast wound to a close, and the last dishes were whisked away, Headmaster Flitwick moved around to the front of the head table, and stood there on a small podium he conjured to address the students.

"Now that our bellies are full to bursting with that marvellous feast," he said, "I _did_ promise you a final address from Lord Potter, before you head off for your last night of the school year sleeping in your dorms."

As Harry walked around the head table to join the little Headmaster, Flitwick said, "I suggest you pay very close attention to what Lord Potter is about to impart upon you. This information is both _astounding_ and world-changing, for us - here - at Hogwarts."

Harry moved up to stand alongside the Headmaster, and shook the half-goblin's hand. As Flitwick moved away, Harry cleared his throat and cast an almost furtive glance and grin at Daphne.

She grinned back, excited.

"Staff and students," he began, nice and simple. "As Headmaster Flitwick alluded, I have yet more news to give you.

"Long has it been unknown who the rightful heirs of the founders are. Riddle claimed direct descendance from Slytherin. Others, have claimed descendance from Slytherin and or the other three. None have actually successfully claimed right to _any_ of the titles.

'Ha! Let the Slytherins think hard on that for the moment,' he thought. 'Riddle didn't actually go in and formally claim his heritage.'

"For example, pretty much everyone who descends from an Ancient House has, at some point in their ancestry, descended from at least one of the founders. But _none_ have been declared the _rightful_ Heir.

"That ends tonight."

He waited for the sudden upswing in background chatter to die away, again, before continuing.

He popped his wand out and raised it to the oath position. "I Harry James Potter, hereby let it be known, that I am the rightful Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of Gryffindor - _And_..." before chatter could pick up again, it immediately died down again, "... hereby let it be known, that I am the rightful Heir to the Noble and Ancient House of - _Slytherin_. So say I; _so mote it be_!"

As the flash passed through him, he waved his wand at the Crests on his dress robes, and allowed the Invisibility Charm to fade away.

He then stood there with the three House Crests proudly displayed upon his breast.

One of the male older years sitting at the Slytherin table suddenly stood up, enraged. Harry caught the movement out of the side of his eye, half expecting some trouble. As he turned to look at the boy, the boy raised his wand and cried, "_Avada Kedavra!_"

With his own wand still drawn, Harry conjured a large marble slab between him and the boy, which blocked the curse and sent chunks of marble soaring. As the curse hit, Harry dropped his left foot back to adopt his preferred duelling stance, and immediately cast "_Langlock!_" back; and followed it up with "_Expelliarmus!_"

With his wand being ripped out of his hand and his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth the boy, Marcus Flint, was defenceless. But that didn't stop him being hit with a few various charms and curses coming from - Harry determined later, by reviewing his memory of the event - no less that eight different casters. One of which was a fellow Slytherin.

Flint was flung against the wall behind him and slid to the ground; clearly wounded and unconscious.

He was already in that state before most of the student body could even fully react.

"Silence!" Harry bellowed. As soon as the students begun to settle down he called, "Susan, please be so kind as to patronus Madam Bones and ask for her attendance. An unforgivable has been cast."

Madam Pomfrey was already moving forward to attend the wounded. "Madam Pomfrey, please see to the - soon-to-be resident of Azkaban - for his injuries. However, do _not_ revive him, at this time."

Turning back to the students, he said, "Where is his wand?"

One of the female older year Hufflepuffs raised it in her hand and said, "Here!"

"Toss it up, here, please," he said. "It's evidence of the crime."

The girl flung it forward like she was throwing a stick for a dog. It clattered onto the dais near Harry's feet.

"Treated with the respect it deserves," he said, before bending over and picking it up. He walked back and placed it on the head table. He then vanished the remains of the marble block.

Moving back to where he was standing, he asked in a clear voice, "Now - _before_ we continue - is there anyone _else_ who wants to commit suicide?"

No one responded. To settle them down a bit, he said, "Now that Mister Flint has managed to get us _all_ wide awake - and while we await the Head of the DMLE - perhaps Professor Duncan may care to let us know of what _he_ knows of what just happened?" Harry turned to grin at the Professor.

With a bit of a forced smile the retired auror said, "Thank you, Lord Potter - Or, is it Lord Gryffindor?"

"At the moment, it's Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor. But, Lord Potter will do in the shortened form. Or, Mister Potter; as I'm still a student and we can consider this a class in the field."

"Lord Potter, then," smiled the DADA Professor. Looking across the students, he said, "Mister Flint, as you saw, cast an unforgivable at Lord Potter. Lord Potter could have dodged it - which uses no magical energy to accomplish - or blocked it with a suitably solid object - which he did."

He turned to Harry and asked, "And why did you choose to shield instead of dodge?"

"I was aware there were people - staff - behind me, sitting at table," he replied. "While I could easily have dodged, given my reflexes, the same could not be said for the staff at table. Therefore, my best choice to save life, was to shield."

With a smile, the professor turned back to the students and said, "What Lord Potter demonstrated and talked about is what is known as _situational awareness_. He wasn't just aware of what and who was before him; but, what and who was _behind_ him. And reacted, accordingly.

"When Mister Flint stood and cast the Killing Curse, he was very foolish in choosing a Curse that will automatically see him - as Lord Potter alluded - taking up residence in Azkaban. Secondly, he was also in a position where he could not easily dodge. He had the table before him, the bench behind his knees, and a student to either side. He was trapped."

Turning back to Harry he asked, "Could you tell us what spells you cast immediately after conjuring that impressive slab of marble?"

"My first cast was a simple Tongue Locking Jinx. My second was the Disarming Charm," he replied.

The Professor smiled and asked, "And, why did you choose those two in particular?"

"Multiple reasons," replied Harry. "One - with Mister Flint having innocents _very_ close by, I was ill-motivated to cast more harmful curses. Both, if I'd missed my target and struck another student, would not have caused lasting harm to an innocent.

"Two - I needed to retaliate _fast_. The Tongue Locking Jinx has only _two_ syllables for the incantation, and the wand movement is a simple point at the target. It is one of the quickest casts you can make. By using the Tongue Locking Jinx - unless Mister Flint is able to cast silently - I've removed from him the ability to retaliate or cast a shield.

"Three - If Mister Flint _is_ able to cast silently, that's where the second cast comes in. The Disarming Charm has _five_ syllables in the incantation. However, the wand movement is a simple point and flick away. The wand movement also flows seamlessly from the last and only wand movement of the Tongue Locking Jinx. I believed taking the time to utter the five syllables would be faster than his ability to think to switch from casting _audibly_ to casting _silently_.

"If others had not cast before I was able to cast a third - and, therefore, broke off my retaliation - my third would have been an over-powered Stunner. And my fourth, would have been a Binding Curse; _Incarcerous_."

The Professor drew his wand and slowly went through the wand movements for the students to see. "_Langlock_ - _Expelliarmus_ - _Stupefy_ - _Incarcerous_. Each movement easily flows into the next. A very quick and effective spell-chain, Lord Potter. Once more, I am impressed.

"I've not seen it before; so, do you mind if I pass it on to my friends in the aurors?"

Harry smiled and gave a very slight bow. "I'd be honoured."

Before they could continue with the impromptu lesson, Aunt Amelia came storming in through the doors flanked by a pair of aurors. "Where's the culprit?" she demanded.

Professor Duncan indicated behind the Slytherin table and said, "The culprit was young Mister Flint from his seat at the Slytherin table. Madam Pomfrey is currently working on him." Turning to indicate the head table, he said, "His wand is up here. A Prior Incantation Charm will determine the Killing Curse was the last cast made with it."

Aunt Amelia indicated to her two aurors to move to Mister Flint, while she came forward and bagged the wand. "Who did he cast it at?" she asked.

"That would be me, Madam Bones," Harry quietly replied.

She stared hard at him for a long moment before she said in a clear voice, "Foolish boy. How could he have thought he had a chance of taking down the one who took down Voldemort?"

"That's not for me to say, Madam," Harry replied with a small smirk and a bow.

Shaking her head a little, she looked at the students and asked, "Did anyone here see Mister Flint cast the Killing Curse?"

Over a hundred hands were raised. Even some of the staff raised their hands.

Looking around, she snorted and said, "Alright; those who retaliated in defence of Lord Potter; you're to stay behind to be interviewed. The rest are free to go."

"There is just one more announcement to make, Madam Bones," said Harry. "Then we can release these weary students to their beds."

"Then, by all means, have at it," she said, before she and Professor Duncan stepped away.

Harry turned back to the students and said, "There's one more important point I wish to impress upon you all, lest you leave here ill-informed."

The students quietened down again.

"While I am both Lord Slytherin and Lord Gryffindor - and, as such, am the owner of this school and castle..."

That earned a few shocked but quiet remarks from the students among themselves, of those who hadn't already understood the ramifications.

"... I will _not_ be taking an active part in the academic running of either. In here, I consider myself a student. And will remain so at least until June of 1998, when I should be graduating.

"Headmaster Flitwick and I, will - at times - discuss matters pertaining to the financial situation of the school. This is to be expected. I shall also be departing from my current living arrangements of living within the Ravenclaw dorms, and will be residing in one of the owner's suites. I will, however, remain a Ravenclaw student, though I'm the Gryffindor and Slytherin Lord. It's confusing, I know.

"Though I am recognised as owner, when we return next year to continue our studies, you are not to approach me because you're unhappy with a member of staff. You already have procedures you must follow to receive relief. Those who do otherwise will find themselves reported to their Head of House for the infraction.

"Thank you for your attention. I now hand you back to our Headmaster," Harry then moved away to give everyone a clear view.

"With the exception of those required to remain for their interviews with the aurors," said Flitwick. "The rest of you may now head for your beds. It will be a busy and exciting day tomorrow. Now, off you go!"

Harry quickly dashed over to see Daphne. "Are you alright, Love?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm fine," she smiled. "I'm not surprised to see Flint doing something so stupid, though. He's always acted before thought."

"Well, as you can expect, I have to remain behind to talk to Aunt Amelia and her aurors," he sighed. "So long as you're safe, I'm happy. I'll see you in the morning for breakfast."

She gave him a quick kiss on the lips and a loving pat on the cheek before she, a smirking Tracey and Blaise headed for the Slytherin dorms.

When he turned about he saw the others of their group standing there, grinning at him.

"Did one, or all of you, manage to tag Flint during that very quick melee?" he asked.

"I did," Susan said with a grin. "I hit him with a Stunner."

"Well done," grinned Harry, before he turned serious again and asked, "How did I do - up there?"

"Brilliant!" said Neville.

"You were very dashing and eloquent, Harry," said Hermione.

"The impromptu lesson was a good idea," said Hannah. "It helped to take people's minds off what had just happened."

"You knew it would, didn't you?" asked Luna.

"Yes," he replied with a shrug and a grin. Turning serious, again, he looked at the younger 'Claw and said. "I'd have preferred the Quibbler have the story of my taking the Lordships of Gryffindor and Slytherin..."

"... But, you cannot wait for Daddy and I to return to Britain to produce another issue," said Luna, finishing his thought.

"No," replied Harry.

"I understand," she simply said. "So does Daddy. He's going to miss our little arrangement; but, he understands."

"I'm _still_ going to give the Quibbler exclusives, Luna," he replied. "However, as owner of the Daily Prophet organisation, I need to send stories their way, too."

Luna just nodded back with a dreamy smile. "Of course you do."

Turning back to the group as a whole, he said, "Well, you folks - except Susan - need to head to bed, and we need to talk with Aunt Amelia. See each other in the morning?"

"Of course," said Hermione.

The others headed off while Harry and Susan went in search of Aunt Amelia to give their statements before heading to bed, themselves.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	79. Next Stop, Innuendo

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Seventy Nine - Next Stop, Innuendo**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

For their final breakfast of the school year, the group all sat at the Hufflepuff table. As per the norm, everyone was out of school robes for the trip back to London.

Harry spent quite a bit of time answering questions from other students about his two new Lordships to add to the ones about the defeat of Old Mouldy Shorts.

Eventually, though, they were on their way to the train. They were also among the first students to make the journey from the castle to Hogsmeade station, as Harry wanted to get away from all the questions.

As they arrived on the platform, and collected their trunks, there was a bit of a bottleneck of students heading for the various carriages. When they struggled their way through the pack, Harry and the others saw why there was a delay.

Sitting at the rear of the train was a shiny new carriage. But, this one had the house crests of the four founders adorning the side panel rather than the single crest of Hogwarts. On both platform side doors was the word, 'Private'.

"I think this is ours," said Harry, wondering aloud.

He walked over to the door and reached up to place his right hand on the door handle.

"I wouldn't do that, if I was you," said a Hufflepuff. "It gave me one hell of a jolt when I tried."

"That's because you're not the rightful Heir of one of the founders," smiled Harry, looking back. He reached up and grasped the handle. Twisting it, he felt a blood lock release and pushed the door open. "Yep. I was right," he said.

Blaise hopped in while Harry and Neville loaded the trunks into the carriage. Blaise pulled them through, out of the way.

With the last ones in Harry indicated to Neville to precede him in before he followed and closed the door behind him. Someone behind himthen tried to open the door, again, and yelped in pain as they shook their hand free before tucking it under their armpit.

Harry looked out the window and saw it was one of the older Slytherins. His friends were laughing at him as he scowled back.

Shaking his head and wondering how someone from the House of the cunning and guile could do something so stupid, Harry turned away and entered the carriage proper. What he saw near took his breath away.

The entire carriage was decked out like a part parlour car, part dining car, part office, and all opulence. With the exception of two water closets cum change rooms, and a small kitchen area cum bar, the entire carriage was open plan.

Storage of trunks was in a special rack set near the door through which they entered.

"This - is - amazing!" he said.

"I know! Right?" said Daphne, coming forward, with a big grin. "And, it's yours!"

"Ours!" said Harry right back.

Walking slowly along, he looked in all the spaces and to the end of the carriage. Opening the door, there, he stepped out onto a small balcony that was about four feet wide and covered the width of the carriage. Two outdoor wooden seats were there, bolted and folded up to the back wall.

He wondered why he didn't see it when they approached the train.

Walking back inside, he opened the door at that end that led back onto the platform and hopped out. Looking around, he saw that the rear open platform was actually disillusioned.

'Huh!' he thought. 'It makes sense, I suppose.'

As he opened the door to re-enter the carriage, he heard someone call him. "Hey Potter!" the voice called.

Harry turned around to see who was calling him. It was the twins. "Hey gents!" he said. "Come on in!" and held the door open for them.

"Nah!" said one.

"We're meeting someone," said the other.

"We'll try to come and see you..."

"... once we're on our way."

"That'd be great," said Harry.

As he was talking, one of Sixth year Slytherin Prefects walked up and interrupted. "Hey, Potter!" he sneered, standing up proudly. "I think this is _our_ car." His friends looked on with glee.

"You thought wrong," said Harry. "This is the _private_ car of the Heirs of the founders. That means me." Harry then slammed the door in the idiot's face and watched as he became angry and grasped the door handle. Like the Slytherin before him he snatched his hand back in shock as the handle - did whatever it did.

Chuckling, he moved back to the others, who had decided to take seat in a group in the parlour area.

"What's so funny?" asked Tracey.

"Oh, I've just been watching some idiot pureblood supremacists trying to get in," he chuckled. "Somehow, they seem to think this carriage is for them."

Daphne rolled her eyes as Tracey giggled. "For how long do you think they'll keep trying?"

"Probably for the entire trip and for quite a few trips to come," replied Harry. "I saw the twins, out there. I've invited them to join us but they're off to see their friends. They'll be by once we're under way."

"How will they get in?" asked Luna.

Surprised at the obviousness of the question, Harry hadn't thought of an answer. "Huh!" he said. "No idea."

Thinking for a few moments, he said, "Hang on." and moved to the front of the carriage. There was the door leading back up the train. He opened it and opened the door into the next carriage across the hitch. He was back in the normal train carriages.

'Okay,' he thought. Turning back to the founders' carriage he placed his hand on the door handle and felt the jolt of being recognised. 'Yep,' he thought. 'That'll be a problem.'

'Hmm.' Realising he already had the answer, he reached into his robes and drew out his prepared note he would have put on their compartment door:

**TRY KNOCKING**

**'The Eight'**

He affixed it to the door in the middle of the glass directly below the word 'Private' with a Sticking Charm, before stepping back to have a look at it.

'That'll do,' he thought, before closing the door.

Walking back to the others and taking seat on the loveseat next to Daphne, he said, "There. Done."

"What did you do?" asked Hannah.

"I put our 'Try Knocking' sign on the door between carriages," said Harry. "Someone'll just have to go and see who it is if we hear a knock."

Turning to look at Daphne, who had changed her position on the seat to lean on his shoulder, he said, "Sorry, love. I'm going to see if we have elves here."

Though she pouted, Daphne pulled away from him to allow him to rise again. He walked over to the bar and sat on one of the stools.

"Elf?" he asked.

With a pop Frosty appeared. "My Lord?"

"Oh, hello, Frosty," said Harry. "I thought there might be a different elf for the carriage."

"Would you like a different elf for the carriage?" asked the little elf, clearly unhappy to ask.

"I'm happy to have you serve us, Frosty," smiled Harry. "I just didn't want to take you away from your modernisation and refit work on the Gryffindor and Slytherin suites."

"I am happy to serve, my Lord; in whatever capacity you need," replied the elf.

"In that case, how about some drinks for my friends and me," said Harry.

"Of course, my Lord," bowed the elf.

Harry went back to sit with Daphne just as he felt the train begin to move. They were on their way back to London.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

About an hour into their trip, they received their first knock - _after_ they first heard a yelp.

Laughing among themselves, Harry was about to get up and go take a look when Blaise said, "You wait there; oh, great and wonderful Lord Slytherin. Allow this lowly peasant to see what they want."

Harry, of course, the great and powerful Lord he is, blew him a raspberry.

Grinning back, Blaise walked to the door and opened it. Someone tried to step in and he blocked them from doing so.

"Blaise?" called Harry, wondering what was going on.

"It's a prefect, my Lord," he replied, calling back. "They seem insistent they be allowed in."

Harry sighed and muttered to Daphne, "I think I better go and resolve this issue to ensure it doesn't happen again."

She nodded and pulled back. "Go forth, my hero; and deal with the scoundrel."

Harry just snorted as the others laughed or giggled.

Walking over to the door, he said to Blaise, "Alright; I've got this. Thanks, Blaise."

As Blaise stepped out of his way, Harry stepped forward to block the door. He was faced with yet another angry Slytherin. This one, a girl and prefect. There was a second one standing behind her, also with an angry expression. "Alright," he sighed. "Why don't you try and tell me what this is about. Hmm?"

She thrust her chest out at him, turning just slightly, and angrily asked, "Do you know what this is?"

Harry looked down for a couple of moments before looking back up again to meet her eyes. "A nice pair of boobs?" he asked, trying to act innocent.

It was ruined by Blaise, standing just apart from him, snorting and choking while trying not to laugh.

"Not my _boobs_!" she barked at him, making the girls behind Harry squeal with laughter.

"_What?_ You mean they're _fake_?" he gasped. "Can I _squeeze_ 'em and see for myself?"

"_No!_" the girl practically screamed at him, going red with anger. His friends were practically howling with laughter behind him, while the girl behind her went red with embarrassment and had to look away.

Ignoring the laughter, she raised her hand and pointed at a prefect badge on the lapel of her robes, and said, "I meant - _this!_"

"I believe it's called a finger," Harry blandly replied.

Blaise hurried away half-choking on suppressed laughter.

"This - is a _prefect_ badge!" she snarked.

"Oh, _tha-at_!" said Harry. "It's very pretty. Now, what does _that_ have to do with you wanting to come into my _private_ carriage?"

"It is the job of a prefect to inspect the Express. We have rounds and duties to follow," she said quite snootily, calming down again.

"Really?" asked Harry. "Tell me, what does the engineer look like?"

"Pardon?" she spluttered. Again, thrown off her stride.

"I asked you what the engineer looks like," Harry repeated. "If it's your job to inspect the Express; then, _surely_, you've been up to the engine compartment. Right?"

Spluttering again, she said, "No. Errr - No. I mean - it's our job to inspect the compartments to ensure the students are all safe."

"Good for you!" said Harry, suddenly beaming. "Then, go do so. There are no compartments in this _private_ owners' carriage. Good day!" And slammed the door shut in her face.

He spun around and winked at his friends, and waited.

Sure enough, there was a bare hesitation before there was a banging on the door.

Evilly smirking at his friends, he changed his expression to one of polite enquiry, and spun back to the door.

Opening it and stepping back in to block the doorway he asked, "Yes?"

The same girl and her friend were still there. "As a prefect, I _demand_ you let me in!"

"I'm not a prefect," said Harry, looking confused. "I'm the _owner_. Weren't you at the Leaving Feast, where I explained all this?"

"No, _I'm_ a prefect," she said in angered exasperation. "And, I _demand_ you let me in!"

Having now had enough fun with the idiot, Harry said, "I'm the _owner_; and I _demand_ you go away! And, as the owner, I'm overriding your Head of House's instructions and altering your duties. As of right now, like the engine, the owners' carriage is not part of the train the prefects need to inspect. Good day to you, Miss I. Emma Prefect."

Furious again, she hissed, "We'll see about this!" And she spun about and stormed away; her friend trailing after her.

Just as Harry was about to close the door, the Weasley twins hurried around the corner. Both laughing.

"Hi, gents!" said Harry. "Come on in!" And stepped back, holding the door open for them.

The twins came in laughing.

"We think little Miss Henrietta Vaisey..."

"... is most wroth with you, Harry."

"Is that who that was?" asked Harry. "I thought she was I. Emma Prefect; though, she never actually introduced herself. I was just going to ask her what the 'I' stood for. But, I thought it might have been one of those horrid names like 'Ianthya', and she'd decided to use her middle name, instead. I was even going to introduce myself as H. James Potter and see if we could have found some common ground.

"Because - I tell ya - I wouldn't mind getting my hands on those fake boobs of hers and finding out whether they were spongy, or firm, or have much play in them, or even if it was just bra stuffing..."

"_Harry James Potter!_" Daphne barked at him with a squeal, interrupting his train of thought.

Looking around, Harry could see Blaise and the twins where rolling around on the floor literally howling with laughter, Neville was getting repeatedly smacked by a bright red Hannah while laughing his heart out, and the other girls, including Daphne and - especially - Luna, were bright red with embarrassment.

"_Wha-at_?" he asked, really playing up the innocent game. "You think they might not be fake, after all? That, she _lied_ to me?" With a huff he said, "Well, that's just _rude_!"

"You will _not_ talk about another girl's boobs, fake or otherwise..." Daphne barked at him before she was interrupted by another hard knocking on the door. "Oh, for Merlin's sake!" she huffed.

"I'll get it!" Harry sing-songed, as he practically skipped back to the door.

Opening it the same as with Miss Fake Boobs (or not) Vaisey, Harry asked, "Yes?"

The young woman on the other side drew herself up and said, "Mister Potter..."

"_Lord_ Potter," interrupted Harry. Looking over her shoulder, Harry could see the delectable Miss Vaisey standing back and arrogantly smirking in perceived triumph.

"_Mister_ Potter..." she tried again

"_Lord_ Potter," he interrupted again.

With a sigh she said, "Very well. _Lord_ Potter, I'm Head Girl Melin..."

"_No-no!_" Harry interrupted, appearing a little panicky. "You _can't_ just be turning up at the door of my _private_ carriage and offering me _head_, like that. My fiancée is sitting just over there..." he gestured, "... and she'd _kill_ me if she..."

"_Lord Potter_," the girl interrupted, spluttering. "I _assure_ you, I'm _not_ here offering to give you _head_..."

"_Oh_! You want me to _give_ it, do you?" interrupted Harry, pretending to catch on. "Sorry, but this tongue is reserved for that lovely..." he tried to gesture behind him as he was interrupted back.

"_Lord Potter_," the girl angrily interrupted, again, as Daphne and whoever else squealed behind him. This girl was really starting to channel that red blush now. "I'm _not_ giving, or receiving, _head_ from..."

"Well, I bet that really pisses your _boyfriend_ off!" said Harry. "Oh! No! Sorry! Wait!" he mock-spluttered with horror, as the girl looked back with a similar expression. "You're aware of the laws surrounding _Heads_ of Noble Houses being able to have more than one wife, and you're here to hint what you'd like to do to me if given a chance! _I_ get it! That's what that 'head' remark was all about. Alright Miss Head - _wink, wink_ - Girlmelin. I can play that game. I'd like to talk about my _broomstick_, and wonder if you'd like to take a _ride_ on it - _wink, wink_."

She slapped him and stormed off.

Harry closed the door and turned back to his friends. "Well, I think that went _very_ well; don't you?"

While everyone else - including the girls, this time - where laughing - some from embarrassment - blushing and trying not to laugh, Hermione walked over and grabbed him by the chin with her left hand. "Here, you," she growled, raising her wand and casting a Healing Charm on the handprint that had sprung up on his cheek.

When she finished, she stepped back, glared at him and said, "You're incorrigible, you know that?" And, not waiting for an answer, she spun about and marched back to her chair.

People had just started settling down again when there was yet another yelp - male, this time - followed by a banging on the door.

Harry immediately grinned and started to rise when Daphne snagged him by the back of his robes and yanked him back into his seat. "Oh, _no_, you don't!" she half-growled. As Harry tried to straighten himself out she turned to Blaise and asked, "Blaise? Would you mind?"

With a grin, Blaise said, "Not at all, Milady" And jumped to his feet before hurrying to the door.

He hesitated, just a moment, before yanking the door open and stepping into the gap. Before the boy on the other side could say anything, Blaise called back with a bit of a whine in his voice, "Oh, _Merlin_! _Harry_, you were _supposed_ to tell the service we wanted _girl_ prostitutes! They sent us a _bloke_!"

"I am _not_ a prostitute!" squawked the male voice from beyond the door.

"No, no!" said Blaise, with his off hand coming up in a placating gesture. "I didn't mean to give offence! What's that term they use, these days? Oh, yes! You're a _lady's close male companion_. That's right; isn't it?"

Harry began giggling. He _hated_ when he did that. But, it's what he did when he was trying to stifle his laughter. It didn't help that Daphne kept smacking him up the back of the head, as he was doing so.

"_I am not that, either!_" squawked the boy, even more indignant.

"Of _course_ not," Blaise scoffed. "You need to be _discreet_. I understand that.

"Now, no one here ordered your - _specialised services_, if you know what I mean - so, we're sorry you undertook a wasted trip. However, we can make it worth your while. And, _my_, you do have the body for it, don't you?

"There's a girl running about on the train who goes by the name 'Head Girlmelin', she appears to be quite - umm - in need of a _close male companion_, if you know what I mean. Could you go and - you know - _have a chat_ with her and this other girl named 'I Emma Prefect' - who, we think, has fake boobs, quite frankly.

"Both of them and some others wearing nice shiny badges - like you've got there - seem to be operating under the misconception they have a right to enter the _private_ carriage of Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor. They don't, of course; but, they _do_ seem insistent. I think it might be repressed sexual urges clouding their logical thought centres."

Harry had abandoned his seat next to Daphne on the couch to escape getting hit all the time, and joined the other guys - including Neville - on the floor of the carriage, rolling around trying not to laugh.

"Please go and - you know," said Blaise to the boy on the other side of the door, "_be a close male companion_ to - sorry - _for_ them, and do what you do to set them straight on that point, would you? There's a good chap." And he hurriedly closed and latched the door before spinning about and grinning like a loon.

With the door finally closed Harry and the other three boys on the floor were howling with laughter and occasionally getting kicked by one of the girls; who were _still_ trying not to laugh.

"Who..." chuckled Harry. "Who - was _that_?"

"Sixth year male Ravenclaw prefect," Blaise replied with a smug smirk and a shrug. "Roger Davies, I think."

"That was _Rog_?" exclaimed Harry. "Oh, _Merlin_! He's going to be _pissed_ with me when we get back. I'm going to have to invite him to the wedding by way of apology."

It didn't stop him laughing about it, though.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next knock was a while later and was quite a timid one. They almost didn't hear it.

Harry said, "I've got this." And walked over to the door. He took a peek out past the blind and saw it was a small group of timid First Year girls from across the Houses.

He sighed and turned back to the others. "It's a gaggle of female Firsties. Now, I can be a real mongrel, here, and scare the life out of them; or, I can let them in. What say you?"

The Weasley twins were all for scaring the crap out of them; but, everyone else was of the opinion he should let them in. With a sad nod, Harry turned back to the door.

Opening it, gently, he looked down and smiled. "Ladies," he calmly said. "To what do I owe the pleasure of your visit?"

A couple of them looked to another and nudged her a couple times. "Umm..." she said.

Harry waited a moment or two before sighing and flinging the door open. "Come in, then," he said.

They all came in and stood in a tight group in the middle of the floor, looking a little scared. He gently closed the door and walked past them, taking a nearby seat so he wasn't towering over them.

Looking to the others, he asked, "Were _we_ ever this small?"

"Yep," replied Blaise, adding a smile of his own.

"Alright, ladies," said Harry turning back to them. "I take it you came down here to talk to me or ask me a question or two. I promise I won't yell, scream, shout at you or otherwise tell you off for doing so. So, who's your spokes lady?"

He already knew because he saw the girls nudging her earlier. They did it again while the girl stood there, blushing away, and trying to get up the courage. Leaning forward with his elbows on his thighs, Harry said to the girl, "It's Miss MacDonald, right? Miss Natalie MacDonald?"

Little Miss MacDonald snapped her head up and stared at Harry in shock and awe. "You - you know my _name_?" she asked, almost squeaked.

"Yes, I do," said Harry. "I watched you being sorted into Gryffindor last September."

"Wow!" she said and blushed again, before looking down and away.

"Now, now," he gently said. "Where's that Gryffindor courage, hmm?"

"I - we - wanted to know - if - umm..." she stuttered.

Harry just sat there and patiently waited. He knew she'd get there sooner or later. But, when she hesitated and looked unable to continue, Harry softly said, "Gryffindors forward, Natalie."

She nodded. Taking a breath and holding it for a moment, she blurted, "We-want-to-know-if-you-have-any-photographs-we-ca n-have." And let the rest of the air she was holding in her lungs out in a loud sigh.

Harry chuckled and asked, "You mean of me, right?"

She looked up and nodded before looking down again. Harry glanced over at Daphne and grinned.

"I've been expecting this," said Harry, sitting back a bit. "Congratulations; you're the first to ask." Leaning back forward again, he asked, "You know Colin Creevey, right? Dennis Creevey's big brother?"

She glanced up and nodded.

"Well, this morning I asked Colin to take some photographs of me dressed really nice. He had his camera with him and took some really nice photographs just this afternoon. If you go and ask him nicely, I'm sure he'll set one or two aside for you; but, you'll have to pay him a small fee for them. Alright?"

Natalie looked up and smiled before blushing and nodding again.

"Is that _all_ you wanted to ask?" he asked.

Another hesitation but she quietly asked, "Can - can you show us that big deer you made appear in the Great Hall, again?"

"It's called a Patronus, Natalie; and yes, I can show you again," replied Harry. "Would you like me to show you now?"

"Yes, please," she practically begged.

Harry chuckled and drew his wand. He gathered his most powerful memory of he and Daphne - one dealing with a particular intimate moment - and cast it down the length of the carriage. "_Expecto Patronum!_" he almost whispered.

Prongs burst forth from his wand tip on the other side of where the boys were sitting. They moved out of the way to let the Patronus walk back between them.

Holding the charm steady with a fair bit of magic pumping into it, he asked the young girl, "Would you like to touch him?"

She nodded and carefully brought her hand forth. Prongs assisted by ducking his head and nuzzling the palm of her hand. As her hand appeared to 'meet' Prongs, she gasped. "It - _tingles_!" she whispered. "It - feels _really_ nice!"

That brought the other young girls around to also 'touch' him. They ooh'ed and aah'ed and excitedly chattered a little among themselves. He heard one of the young girls whisper to her friend, "It makes me feel all funny - down there." His eyes widened at the implications of that and blushed, as her friend nodded in agreement.

When it appeared they had enough, and were dropping their hands, he said, "Thank you, Prongs," and allowed the form to fade away.

"Anything else, ladies?" he asked them.

Most of them shook their heads while young Miss MacDonald said, "Thank you - Lord P-otter - umm..."

Harry interrupted her as she got tongue-tied and said, "You were brave enough to ask me questions, Natalie; you can call me Harry. Actually, you can _all_ call me Harry.

"Now, don't forget to go and see Colin before the train pulls into Kings Cross to ask for a photo or two. Otherwise, you'll have to wait until September to see him, again."

"Thank you - Harry." She tried to curtsey before the whole lot bolted for the door and let themselves out.

When they were gone Daphne rose, walked over to him, dragged him onto his feet by a fistful of his robes, and snogged him good and proper.

When she pulled away he said, "Not that I'm complaining, mind. But, what was _that_ for?"

"For proving to me you're going to make a _great_ father," she said, before giving him a huge hug.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Shortly before they were to arrive at Kings Cross, there was another knock on the door. Harry opened it to see Lee Jordan stand there, with a slight smile on his face.

Harry exclaimed, "_Lee_!" Then reached out, snagged the boy by the front of his windcheater, and dragged him into the carriage, slamming the door behind him.

"Lee!" Harry exclaimed again, and wrapped the boy in a big hug. "I've missed you, man!" he mock-sobbed.

Harry couldn't see the expression on the other boy's face; but, it made the twins, Neville and Blaise crack up laughing.

Releasing the boy from his near-crushing hug he held him by the upper biceps out at arm's length. "Why have you _forsaken_ me?" he mock-wailed.

Bug-eyed and gobsmacked, Lee replied, "_Jeezus_, Harry!"

That had the other boys howling with laughter, again.

Realising he'd been well and truly pranked, Lee shrugged off Harry's hand and grumped, "Okay, ya got me."

Harry grinned back, chuckled and moved back to sit with Daphne. "Anyone know how much longer we've got before we arrive?"

"I think we just passed Aylesbury; so, only about thirty minutes," replied Blaise, looking out the window at the type of scenery they were passing.

After chatting with everyone, for a while, Lee suggested to the twins they make a move back to their compartment. It would be difficult for them to collect their trunks if they delayed too much longer.

The others remained in the owners' carriage until they arrived.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Pulling in to the station, Harry opened the station-side door and found the clip to latch it open.

Then he debarked and assisted each of the ladies out of the carriage before helping unload all nine trunks. He and Neville picked each trunk up and placed them on waiting trolleys as Blaise slid them along the floor to the door.

Once they were all out, he turned to see Cygnus, Isabel, Aunt Amelia, Gran, the Davises and the Abbotts all looking at the carriage in surprise, if not a little shock.

Seeing their expressions, Harry moved to the open door and said, "Come; hop on board."

The parents and guardians all hopped on board and had a look, around.

"Why wasn't this part of the train when I went to school?" asked Aunt Amelia for all of them.

"I believe this was added because I've claimed my Hogwarts' Lordships," said Harry. "It's the owners' private carriage. I have no idea, however, how it came to be included as part of the train. I didn't organise it."

After everyone else had disembarked, and Harry had a good look around to make sure no one left anything behind, Harry stepped out pulling the door shut behind him. He didn't want anyone coming along later and 'doing something' within it.

He then floo'ed back to the Greengrass Estate with his family.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	80. Wedding Prep

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty - Wedding Prep**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The little elf popped into Harry's room at Greengrass Estate, where he was making deep inroads into getting his homework out of the way before the wedding.

"Master Harry," said the little elf deferentially, getting Harry's attention. "Mistress Issy would like you to see her in the lady's parlour."

Harry nodded to the elf and said, "Thank you."

He set aside what he was working on, his transfiguration assignment, and made his way along the floor to the lady's parlour. He'd looked in there, once before, when being given his initial tour of the Estate. However, he was also told it was a room for the ladies of the Estate, only. And that he was not to enter unless specifically invited. This was the first time he had been.

He knocked on the door and, hearing the invitation to enter, opened the door and walked in.

In the centre of the room were three long tables even spaced and parallel to one another. They were covered in brochures, swatches of material, photographs, and other paraphernalia. One end of the middle table had a white cloth covering what was under it. Isabel and Daphne were moving around them.

Looking up, Isabel smiled at him, gestured and said, "Come in, Harry. You need to see this."

Walking forward to stand beside her, Harry looked across the three tables and frowned. "What _is_ all this?" he asked.

"This is the planning for your wedding," explained Isabel. Indicating the tables, left to right, she said, "The first one is the planning for the arrangements that occur before the wedding. The middle is the wedding, itself. The far right is the reception and honeymoon. On the last, you'll notice there's a great deal of the table that's, shall we say, blank."

Harry did notice that.

"That area of the table is for your honeymoon, and for the arrangements of what happens after the honeymoon; such as where you'll be living," she explained. "That's mainly your task. You need to make a start on it, soon - very soon."

"Oh," he said. "Mainly, I have it all in my head."

"That may be fine for _you_, Harry," she said. "But, Daphne, at least, needs to know what's going on there; so wardrobes, and the like, can be planned."

Nodding in understanding, he said, "Alright; I can understand that. I'll get it all down on paper for you. Anything else I need to be concerned with?"

"Oh yes, dear boy; oh yes," she chuckled.

Harry immediately had the distinct impression he was in for an experience similar to 'lady shopping'.

Isabel hustled him forward to the table on the left and started to explain things to him. But, worse, she started asking his opinion of things. And she didn't give him any clues as to what answers she _wanted_!

He was a _guy_, for Merlin's sake! What did _he_ know about colours such as watermelon, taupe and chartreuse. He didn't even know they _were_ colours! When she mentioned something about _crushed velvet_, he said he was sure the house elves could smooth it all out again. She looked _so_ disappointed with him. It was maddening!

When she showed him what he thought was a modern work of art in the form of some type of tapestry, she told him it was the schedule of 'the event'. It was huge!

Eventually, he was handed a stack of books and told to go read them. They were on subjects covering wedding ceremonies of the magical world, wedding breakfasts, types of wedding receptions, length of honeymoons, honeymoon destinations, how to invite guests, who should be considered guests, duties of the groom, duties of the groomsmen, duties of the family of the groom, and a wealth of other subjects.

He needed help and he knew who he needed to see to get that help. It was time for a visit to the Black House; aka, the Kennel.

After spending a few hours with his godfather and honourary uncle to give him advice, he was ready to return to Greengrass Estate.

He was now armed with a stack of parchment with a summary of what he _really_ needed to do. He was ready to 'plan'. Through his efforts there, he also had jobs for Sirius and Remus that would make them feel inclusive of the wedding party.

He set to work.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Daphne also met with Monty Wordsworth, apologised for having to shut him out the previous school year, and promptly gave the man the story about him finding out about being the rightful heirs of both Gryffindor and Slytherin.

In return, Monty promised to hold off on the story until the morning edition immediately after the next Wizengamot session, when Harry would officially take control of two of the seats reserved for the heirs of the founders.

Monty smiled and said, "Of course I can do that, Lord Potter. After all, far be it for me to ignore a direction from the man who is my ultimate boss."

"I didn't know you knew that," said Harry. "I didn't want it to become an issue between us."

Monty waved it off as if it was of no matter.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The actual Wizengamot session was a breeze. No one was going to upset the _again_ hero of the wizarding world by objecting to his claim to the two founders' seats.

Of course, _everyone_ wanted to shake his hand, and be seen doing so. Some members even brought along a paid photographer to take wizarding photographs of the act.

The only real annoyances of the evening were the number of Heads who - not so subtly - wanted to propose the drafting of betrothal contracts between him and daughters of their Houses.

On that night, he received unofficial offers for the following students still at Hogwarts: Patricia Stimson and Katie Bell of Gryffindor; Henrietta Vaisey (Miss Fake Boobs) and Millicent Bulstrode of Slytherin; Marietta Edgecombe, Morag McDougal and Shirley Fawcett of Ravenclaw; and Wilma Summerby of Hufflepuff.

Once the article Monty wrote for the Prophet came out, the following two days of wedding planning had to be put on hold while the written offers of marriage and betrothal contracts could be sorted and dealt with.

Of current students at Hogwarts for those, he received offers for Shirley Fawcett, Victoria Frobisher and Demelza Robins of Gryffindor; Amanda Brocklehurst of Ravenclaw; and Eleanor Branstone of Hufflepuff. The others were names he did not recognise; or were simply 'as yet unnamed daughter' of House So-and-so.

"How in Merlin's _name_ am I supposed to look these girls in the eye when we get back to Hogwarts?" he grumbled to Cygnus and Daphne.

"This is expected in these families, Harry," said Cygnus. "Don't worry about it. However, you may want to consider some of these girls may have - _encouraged_ - their Head of House to make these offers. The same could be said for the older ones who have already graduated."

Harry just sat back and grumbled under his breath.

"Just so you know," he said, after sitting back up again. "I have no intention of doing _this_ to any daughters we may have! Any contracts will not be considered until such time as they are old enough to make their own decision; and, the prospective groom had also better be desiring of it.

"I think Michael Abbott and Gran had the right of it for Hannah and Neville. That's how I think these things should be done."

Almost angrily moving documents around, he said, "Look at this one. A betrothal contract for - 'an as yet unborn daughter of the union of Harry James Potter and Daphne Ophelia Greengrass' and 'the first born son of Ignatus Wilfred Wood and Juliette May Quirke, Bartwinkle Ian Wood, to be married when they come of age'. _Plus_, they want guarantees the title of Lord Gryffindor will be - get this - 'passed to the product of their union'!

"Daph and I have not even married yet, let alone - well - you _know_ - and they're looking for us to betroth her - if there _is_ a 'her' - complete with guaranteed title to the Gryffindor estates, and this is considered _normal_?

"I know Oliver Wood, Ignatus's younger brother, and he's a great bloke. But, right now, I just want to hunt him down and punch him in the mouth just for being _related_ to this Cadmael Wood mongrel!"

"A lot of these people are acting off the basis you and Daphne were betrothed at a young age," explained Cygnus. "And probably believe you'd be open, yourselves, to such a contract."

"Well, I'm not!" grumped Harry.

"Harry," said Cygnus. "I think _I_ better draft up the responses in the negative to each of these and just let you sign them. I don't want to find myself allied to you in a blood feud with another House just because you've referred to their Head as a 'mongrel'."

Harry snorted. "Thank you, Cygnus. That would be appreciated."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Getting frazzled, a little, Daphne called in Hermione and Tracey to help with the planning of the wedding. Both girls, they knew, had a head for scheduling. For more and more, Isabel stepped back to let them go. She only 'oversaw' what was happening, and made suggestions as necessary.

With Sirius and Remus now acting as family for the groom, they brought in Wendell and Monica to act as honourary aunts and uncles for Harry. Sirius even coined the term 'Team Groom'. Monica also fulfilled the role as the mother of the groom and was dragged in by 'Team Bride' to work between the two.

Harry was very happy to let them go for it and only, then, had to make decisions.

Of course, Neville was acting as Best Man and, in a fit of inspiration, he tagged the Weasley twins as the two other groomsmen. Daphne approved and said she was already planning on dropping hints if he didn't work it out for himself before too much longer. That was his biggest worry taken care of.

"You _knew_ I was going to pick them?" he asked her, surprised.

"Of course," she said. "The only one who _didn't_ know, was you."

"Oh," he said, sheepishly.

"We did, after all, have to pick colours that wouldn't clash with that Weasley red hair," she said. "Now, you just have to go and ask them. _And_ - tell them that pranks are utterly banned for the event. You don't prank weddings; it's bad luck.

"That means the Weasley twins are crossed off the lists for the wedding and the reception. They're now 'wedding party'. However, you need to find out if they have dates and, if they do, we have to look at seating them. Make sure you find that out, too."

"Got it," he said.

"While I'm at it," she continued, "find out if Sirius or Remus have lady friends that need inviting, and anyone from the Black family we simply cannot leave out.

"Got that, too," he said.

By the end of the day, Harry learned that the twins wanted to bring Angelina Johnson and Alicia Spinnet - two of the chasers off the Gryffindor Quidditch team - as their dates. Harry had met both and liked them; and their names were added to the guest list and to the table of friends.

Remus claimed he didn't have anyone; but, Sirius took Harry aside and told him to invite Nymphadora Tonks - Harry remembered her being a seventh year Hufflepuff in his first year - as Moony's 'date'. Ted and Andromeda Tonks were invited as part of his extended family in the Blacks. And, grudgingly, the names Dowager Lady Narcissa Malfoy, Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson, as his betrothed, were added for the same reason. Harry allowed them to be invited so long as Sirius brought a suitable date, as well. He agreed.

On the Greengrass side, young Tori's date was a surprise to Harry - Colin Creevey. Harry had fun tweaking her about it for about a day before both Isabel and Daphne told him to back off. Harry still intended to give him the 'shovel' talk, though. But, as way of apology to his future baby sister, he told Tori she could tell Colin he could be the official wedding photographer.

Wizarding weddings didn't usually have one, so Harry had to explain the concept to Daphne and Isabel. They loved the idea. When Cygnus found out about it he was surprised Harry suggested it.

"Think about it this way," he told his near-future father-in-law, "As official photographer, young Colin is going to be too busy taking photographs to spend _too_ much time around Tori."

Thinking of that for a moment, Cygnus guffawed and slapped Harry on the back. "Very _devious_ of you, Lord Slytherin!" he chuckled.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Before he even realised how close it had become, the wedding was soon only a few days away.

Harry was sent to Potter Manor to 'oversee' the organisation and preparation taking place there. At least, that's what he was told.

In reality, Isabel and Daphne were already liaising with the Potter elves and the little folk were already well informed as to what needed to happen. No, he was sent there because he was starting to become a bit of a nervous wreck and he was driving the Greengrasses, Daphne in particular, to distraction.

At Potter Manor, so that he didn't feel as if he was bouncing off the walls, Harry called in Neville, the twins, Blaise Zabini, Sirius and Remus to keep him company. That was a bad idea. Sirius, probably, dosed the butterbeers the boys were drinking with an Alcohol Enhancing Potion - not illegal, but much frowned upon - and got the five young friends drunk.

Early that evening, the aurors were called to Diagon Alley to deal with 'a disturbance'. The five young men were stripped down to their underwear and were singing bawdy ditties at the top of their lungs in front of the steps of Gringotts.

Aunt Amelia turned up in her official role as Head of the DMLE, yelled at them, tied them all together using _Incarcerous_, and forced Harry to activate his portkey back to Potter Manor. The spinning made all five violently ill and the elves were not happy cleaning up the mess they made of the floor of the Potter Manor Lord's office when they landed as a still-bound-together mass sprawled on the floor.

The next morning, the five, still nursing hangovers wile trying to eat something for breakfast, were blasted by three Howlers; one from Daphne, one from Gran, and one from Missus Weasley aimed at the twins. It was agreed that Missus Weasley was the most shrill; but, Daphne's scored the most points for pure invectiveness.

Harry found out later - while still nursing a hangover - that Sirius and Remus were also in the Alley, at the time, under Disillusionment Charms to watch over them. They'd spent a lot of their time, there, laughing their heads off at the five boys.

Daphne had already called in to Greengrass Estate, Hermione and Tracey; but, added Susan and Hannah to the planning team of 'Team Bride'. Luna turned up the next day, two days before the wedding.

Just to get out of the Manor for a while, Harry took the menfolk, including Wendell, in to Diagon Alley and to Twillfit and Tattings to make sure they were fully dressed in the finest robes available for the wedding. Of them all, Wendell seemed to be most amused by dressing as a 'real wizard'.

At first, it appeared Mister Tatting wanted to throw him out of the store until Harry glared at the man. "I am Lord Harry James Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor. And _he_ is the father of Lady Hermione Jean Dagworth-Granger. You will show the man respect."

A bit of profuse apologising, together with bowing and scraping, saw all of them well treated from that moment forth.

The dresser did get his own 'dig' back when he said, "I must say, Lord Potter, that rendition of 'The Witch's Cauldron' you gave in the Alley the other night was, shall we say, quite entertaining."

Harry, Neville and the twins all blushed, while Sirius and Remus sniggered. Remus had to tell Wendell what happened.

All of them were fitted for formal robes with their House Crests, including Wendell. They all wore plain black outer robes with silver inner robes. The only difference was that Harry had brought with him swatches of the material for the bride and bride's maids. Harry was fitted with a bowtie and cummerbund in Ivory; while Neville and the twins had the same but in the same colour as the bride's maids' dresses, French Green; which went well with the silver.

"I think your future wife is trying to turn us three Gryffindors into Slytherins," said Neville, looking at himself in one of the full length mirrors provided.

"_What?_" the twins gasped in stereo, before running to another of the mirrors and checking out their reflections.

"Ye, gads!" said one

"What're we to do?" said the other.

"Suck it up!" smirked Blaise. "Besides, I think you _both_ should have been sorted into Slytherin, in the first place.

"What are you..."

"... saying?" they cried.

"You're resourceful, ambitious and cunning," replied Blaise, ticking them off on his fingers. "Those are dominant Slytherin traits."

Both seemed to deflate, at that moment.

"Oh, dear," said one.

"Busted!" said the other.

Sirius looked at them sharply for a moment before he said, "Oh?"

Together the twins looked at him and sadly nodded.

"That's where the Hat...:

"... wanted to sort us."

"But we begged it ..."

"... to put is in..."

"Gryffindor," they said in stereo.

"What ever for?" asked Blaise.

"We'd have been disowned..."

"... if we'd gone into..."

"Slytherin!" they replied.

"Dad wouldn't."

"But, Mum would."

"It's alright, boys," said Sirius, smirking. "I did the same thing."

After their fitting was complete, Harry led them down to Gringotts. He had Neville, Sirius and Remus join him to go down to the Potter vaults. There, they helped him pick out the perfect wedding rings.

Sirius was the best at conjuring so he created a perfect little paired ring box for them. He handed it to Harry, who placed the rings within, and then passed it to Neville.

"There ya go, Nev," he said. "As Best Man, it's your job to keep them safe until you hand them to me at the ceremony."

Neville's chest swelled with pride as he dropped the box into an inner robe pocket. "They'll be safe with me, Harry."

"Never doubted it, Nev," replied Harry.

Sirius mock-sniffled and mock-dabbed his eyes. "I remember having the almost _exact_ same conversation about the wedding rings of your parents - here, in this very vault - when your Dad handed the ring box to me."

Remus smacked him up back of the head and rolled his eyes.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back at the manor, everyone put away their wedding wear, except Wendell, and headed back down to the informal dining room for a late lunch. The fitting had taken longer than they expected.

After they were finished, Wendell took his new robes and floo'ed to the Estate to show Monica what he'd be wearing. He returned about two hours later with Cygnus.

"Cygnus?" queried Harry. "What brings you here."

"Escape!" he blandly said.

Harry just grinned and said, "I think Remus is in the library and Sirius is - well - I have no idea where Sirius is. The rest of us are just bouncing about, trying to keep ourselves occupied.

"Let's see," he mused. "Neville's in the greenhouses. The twins and Blaise have grabbed the old manor brooms and are whizzing about, out there. And I was about to head to the office, thinking I should make a start on the ward book for the wedding.

"Ah!" said Cygnus. "Then let us head there. I'll show you how to enter names, temporarily, within it; and how to make them time sensitive."

"Oh, good," said Harry. "I was just handed the list of wedding guests with how and when they'll arrive. I thought I'd have to enter them all in by hand, and then rule them out after the reception."

"Nope," said the older man. "There's a separate way to do what you want."

Relieved, Harry led Cygnus to 'his' office. Once in, he collected the ward book and took it back to the desk, ready to get started.

When he was sitting down, Cygnus came around and showed him what to do.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Finally, it was the day of the wedding.

Harry was surprised, the evening before, when Greengrass Estate elves turned up and moved all of Daphne's and his possessions from the Estate into the Lord's bedroom at Potter Manor, when he wasn't looking. When he looked in the walk in robe he felt he nearly had a heart attack. What once looked huge in size, now looked like they risked having insufficient space within.

Neville, the twins, Blaise, Sirius and Remus all stayed the night, the night before. So, they were all there for breakfast in the morning.

The combined elves, including Dobby and Winky, were cooking up a storm in the kitchen; so the household had to have breakfast out of the kitchen for the day.

The combined Greengrass and Potter house elves erected a huge white pavilion marquee the day before; so, now Harry knew where the wedding was going to be held. They then set everything up, inside it, after the boys left.

The ballroom was configured to hold the reception, and had been enlarged to both seat everyone, and hold dancing, afterwards.

In the Daily Prophet, that morning, were details of the wedding. That annoyed Harry, because he felt it was a security risk. However, his instructions to the staff of the newspaper were they were allowed to print any story, so long as it was true, was in the public's best interest to know, and wouldn't see them sued for libel.

Therefore, having the details of his and Daphne's wedding displayed for all to see met with those guidelines. He couldn't now go and yell at them for it.

They had the location and time of the event. Plus the two families involved, of course. But they had not much else.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Over at the Greengrass Estate, the girls had been getting ready since mid morning. There was little nervousness in this House of Chaos.

Expert wizarding beauticians had arrived to do make up and hair, the elves were handing out light snacks that had no chance of staining dresses, witches were talking a mile a minute, and Cygnus wished he could have dived out through the fireplace to Potter Manor early, to get away from it all.

Upstairs, in the lady's parlour, the tables and paraphernalia had long since disappeared. Now, it was a beauty salon with small dressing tables and large makeup mirrors for all the ladies.

Even Monica was grabbed and sat at one of the stations when she arrived. Wendell, of course, wasn't even allowed in through the door; and was told to, instead, 'Go find Cygnus and keep him out of trouble!' He found the Lord practically hiding in his office downstairs.

The first thing Cygnus did was hand him a small glass of aged scotch. Something Wendell was more than happy to accept.

"Best to stay away from upstairs," said Cygnus, solemnly.

"No need to tell me twice," replied Wendell.

The two men sat quietly, each lost to their thoughts for a time.

After a while, Wendell asked, "Nervous, my friend?"

Cygnus quietly thought for a while before replying, "No, strangely enough. More - sad, but satisfied.

"I'm sad one of my little girls is now all grown up and will join her new husband in bed, tonight," he said. "But, I also know I haven't lost her. Harry is very much the son Isabel and I never had.

"When the time comes, I believe I'll be very happy to pass on the family Headship and title of Regent Greengrass to him."

They both sat there for a while before Cygnus asked, "Are you aware of any suitors in Hermione's life, at this time?"

"No," replied Wendell. "At least, not yet - I'm quite surprised by that, if I was to be honest to myself. She's nearly sixteen years old, now. I would have expected at least a casual boyfriend, by now."

"What about this Victor Krum fellow?" asked Cygnus.

"Another friend like Harry, I think," sighed Wendell. "She's - portkeying - to see him next week - She's going all the way to Bulgaria on her own; and I don't know what to make of that."

"Mmm," said Cygnus. "We want to hug them and protect them from harm. But, they're also growing so _fast_. Next year, Hermione will be 'of age' and considered an adult in our world. She will legally be free to go where she wants, without parental interference. This trip may be good for her."

"That's what Mon' tells me," said Wendell. "However, it's _hard_ to just let go, like that."

"And yet, we must," said Cygnus. "If we do not, they'll just resent us for it."

Both men sighed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The wedding was scheduled for 6.00pm; and Harry was getting antsy.

With the excuse he wanted to make sure everything outside was perfect, Harry grabbed his Firebolt and went for a fly around the grounds, just to clear his head and stave off the panic attack he thought he was rapidly heading towards.

When he came back to earth, he discovered young Colin Creevey had arrived.

"Why are you here, already, Colin?" asked Harry.

"I need someone to allow me in to Greengrass Estate to take photos of preparations there, before they all come here," he said.

"Ah!" said Harry. "And they don't realise a wedding photographer in the muggle world does that sort of thing."

Colin shook his head. So, Harry floo called Cygnus and asked him to allow young Colin through. Cygnus asked for Colin's full name and said to wait about five minutes before sending him through.

When he pulled his head back out again, Harry said, "You can go through in about five minutes. In the mean time, how go the photos you took for me?"

"Oh, yes! I have them here," he said, reaching in to a large camera bag he had on his hip. Drawing forth a great stack, he handed them to Harry.

"Thank you," said Harry. "How much more do I owe you?"

"Ah," Colin said and giggled. "Nothing. What you've already given me isn't even half what it's cost me, so far."

"Good," said Harry, "I don't want you out of pocket. And make sure you charge me a good fee for taking wedding photographs today, alright?"

"Oh, Lord Greengrass has covered that, already," said the younger boy. "It's _more_ than covered, actually."

After Colin told him a little bit about what he was hoping to purchase with the money Harry and Cygnus had given him, Harry interrupted him before he got too enthusiastic.

"It's been time enough," said Harry. "The Floo address is Greengrass Estate."

"Thanks, Harry!" said the chipper Colin. He dashed in the floo powder and spun away to the Estate.

About ten minutes before guests started arriving, Blaise took the boys aside and demonstrated the procedures for welcoming the guests; though, Neville already knew. Most were arriving by portkey onto the front portico, and were spaced two minutes apart. A select few were arriving by floo. Others were arriving by apparition beyond the gates and were then brought to the portico by a couple of house elves. It was almost literally all planned down to the last second.

The first people to arrive were a small contingent of aurors and hit wizards. They were going to be moving into positions to keep an eye on the guests. Some would be disillusioned, while others would be wearing Polyjuiced disguises.

Blaise and the twins waited in the Entry for those arriving by portkey or being brought in by apparition. They greeted them on their arrival and indicated their way through the manor to the back gardens.

Neville and Harry were waiting at the fireplace in the parlour for those few arriving via that method. These guests, too, where sent through to the back gardens.

In the back gardens were a few tables containing light finger food for the guests while they were waiting for everyone bar the bridal party to arrive.

Another two working guests were Monty Wordsworth and Penelope Clearwater; who were reporting on the wedding for the Daily Prophet and (Teen) Witch Weekly, respectively. Harry reminded them he knew they were here to do a job, but not to unduly bother the guests. They could write their stories, but not be nuisances.

"Be flies on the wall," he told them. "Be passive journalists, not active. And, if you want or need photographs for your articles, we have a young and very skilled photographer who can meet your needs. I assure you, he's more than up to the task. You'll see him performing his role shortly before the bride and her family arrive."

After thanking him for his thoughtfulness in inviting them and meeting their needs, they headed out to the back gardens.

A few of the minor guests, yet, wanted to talk to Harry about betrothal contracts. Already prepared for the possibility of someone trying to use the occasion of meeting him to foist such a betrothal contract on him, Harry gave the general response of, "That is a matter for another possible time. Thank you for coming, and I hope you enjoy the ceremony and celebration."

Once he'd thought all three hundred guests had arrived, as all the ones coming via floo had, Harry turned to Blaise and asked, "Any left via the front doors?"

"Nope," the other boy smiled. "That's it, except for the bridal party."

Harry breathed a sigh of relief and said, "Thank you for doing that, Blaise. It was really appreciated." A quick glance at his watch and he said, "Alright, a quick drink and short mingle and we'll need to get the guests into the wedding pavilion."

The Granger adults, Susan and Hannah had already arrived and were outside. Of course, Tracey and Hermione were with Daphne; as they, plus Astoria, were bride's maids.

The five of them headed out through the back doors to, once more, greet the guests before ushering them down to the marquee.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As Harry stood on the small dais with Neville, the twins and the Wizarding Minister, he was fidgeting and looking out upon the sea of faces there to watch him and Daphne marry. Playing in the background was Bach's _Air on a G-String_. Chosen for its soothing quality. But, it was doing little to soothe Harry's nervousness.

"Harry," whispered Neville. "_Relax_, would you? She's being 'fashionably late'. It's tradition!"

Looking on the groom's side of the aisle, Harry could see Sirius, his date, Remus, Nymphadora Tonks, Gran and Aunt Amelia sitting in the front row. The rest of the guests were behind. He saw Ted and Andromeda Tonks sitting there with Narcissa Malfoy, but not Draco. He was on the other side.

He could see Ginny and other Hogwarts' friends including Professors Flitwick, Sprout, Babbling, Vector and McGonagall, and Madam Pomfrey. Ravenclaw classmates were also there.

On the bride's side and in the front row, he saw Isabel, the adult Grangers and a couple of people he didn't know; but, expected to be aunts, uncles and cousins. He saw a couple of people from Slytherin behind them, including Draco Malfoy and Pansy Parkinson; and others behind even them. The guest list included most of the Wizengamot, many department Heads from within the Ministry, a lot of aurors, and some Unspeakables. He recognised 'Uncle Algie' sitting off to one side.

However, most of them he didn't know until they'd arrived. Until then, they were just names on the guest list.

The ones he was being most careful around were those purebloods he knew who were supposed to be supporters of the late Tom Riddle. He, Cygnus, Sirius, Remus and Amelia knew they were too important _not_ to invite, and still very dangerous.

At about ten minutes past the mark, Colin came in and raced up the aisle towards Harry.

"Face me, please, gents!" as soon as everyone was in position, he took a couple of photographs. He then lowered his camera, grinned, spun about and waited.

"Here she comes..." muttered Harry, getting even more fidgety.

Suddenly, the Bridal Processional, Wagner's _Bridal Chorus_, started up. Though, he knew it to be a favourite of formal muggle weddings, he didn't know it was the same with wizarding weddings.

The guests all rose as one and turned to the doors at the rear to await the arrival of the bride.

The curtains marking the 'door' into the marquee were evenly pulled aside by magic, and in came Cygnus walking proudly with his eldest daughter, Daphne, on his arm.

Harry took one look at her, let out a little 'Eep!' sound, and thought he was going to faint.

Neville reached out and squeezed Harry on his left elbow. "_Eeeasy_, Harry," he whispered. "_Breeeeaaathe!_"

Harry dimly heard his best mate but found himself complying. With his heart thumping away, he clamped on his Occlumency and tried to get his breathing and heart rate under control by lightly mediating.

All too soon - or, for what felt like forever - Daphne was being guided by her father to Harry's side before the Minister. He almost forgot the wizarding tradition of reaching over and shaking Cygnus's hand, before the man moved over to sit next to Isabel.

Harry almost missed Tracey, Hermione and Astoria moving into position on the other side of Daphne. Almost - inconsequentially - he thought they looked nice.

As the bride and groom parties turned back to face the Minister, the processional came to a faded stop.

The Minister very quietly cleared his throat and said, "Dearly beloved..."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	81. Where in the World is

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty One - Where in the World is**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As Harry pulled away from the kiss with Daphne, the Minister said aloud, "My Lords, ladies and gentlemen; I present to you, Lord Harry James Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor, and his wife Lady Daphne Ophelia Greengrass-Potter."

The guests rose in their seats and clapped.

Turning to look at the guests, Harry blushed as he saw many of the ladies within the audience, especially up close family and friends, were crying. Looking across, he even saw Pansy Parkinson dab her eyes with a lace handkerchief as Malfoy rolled his.

On 'his' side of the divide, he saw Professor Flitwick was standing on his chair almost bouncing up and down in happiness. Alongside him, Professor McGonagall was similarly dabbing her eyes.

Standing in the middle of the aisle, just before Harry and the, now complete, bridal party were about to walk off the dais; was young Colin, happily taking photographs.

As the recessional, Mouret's _Rondeau_, played, Harry first shook the hand of the Minister before he hooked Daphne's arm in his own and escorted her back up the aisle. Behind them, Neville did the same for Tracey, and each of the twins did the same for Hermione and Tori.

Daphne wanted bridal party photographs taken out in the garden. So, Colin had come and scoped the place out the day before, to know where to take them. He led them around to the front of the manor to have photographs taken there, first. Once all the guests had left the marquee and gone indoors, he led them back around to the back gardens to have photos taken out there.

With the light finally fading away, they headed indoors and allowed for photographs to be taken in the small - for a manor - entrance hall in front of the huge Potter crest opposite the front doors. There, they were joined in succession by guests who wanted a photograph taken with the 'happy couple'

Finally, when Harry felt like his cheeks were going to cramp from smiling so much, the posed photographs came to an end and the newlyweds led their attendants into the ballroom for the reception, as Sirius called for all to rise and, once again, welcome them.

Now it was Sirius's and Remus's chance to shine as co-hosts of the evening acting in the role of Emcees. And, after a quick introduction and overview of what would happen for the evening, they called for the wedding feast to be served.

While he and Daphne sat in the centre of the head table, Harry was able to look out across the guests enjoying the meal. However, every now and then he would glance down at the recently restored wedding band sitting paired with the betrothal ring on his left ring finger - or look over to see the one on Daphne's finger - just to make sure it was real.

The speeches were restricted to only those people on the 'approved' list to give them, and to go for no more than five minutes, so the reception would not get bogged down by people droning on and on. This was something both Harry and Daphne insisted upon.

Remus led with the Toast to the Bride and Groom. He kept it quite sweet with just a small, playful jab at Harry.

Harry followed with the expression of thanks to Remus and Sirius for being part of his 'first' family. Then spoke about his love for those in the wedding party, before toasting the bride's maids.

Neville's response speech as Best Man on behalf of the bride's maids was quite funny, while also respectful.

The Minister gave the toast to the bride's parents. And, thankfully, didn't use the opportunity to politicise.

The speech from the father of the bride was quite poignant; but, also, quite uplifting. Cygnus was a great orator.

Gran then gave the speech to the groom's parents as one of remembrance for the heroes they were. And used the opportunity to remind everyone that Harry was just as much a hero.

Once the initial speeches were out of the way, Sirius had the elves bring out the Potter family pensieve.

"It has become a bit of a tradition in muggle wedding receptions," he began, "to show on a big screen photographs and moving pictures of the bride and groom growing up. These scenes are usually things like, their first baby photo, their first day going to school, school and sporting awards they receive, a visit to the beach or an amusement park, a graduation day, their first 'date', and so forth; happy memories of a childhood.

"But, we're in the wizarding world and we can do things a little differently." Indicating the pensieve, he said, "Unlike muggles we can display memories. And, Remus and I went around and collected a few - special - ones." Then he evilly laughed. "Mwa! Ha ha ha ha!"

That earned him a few laughs from the guests while Harry groaned and dropped his head to the table. Which earned _him_ a few laughs.

It didn't turn out as bad as Harry expected. Yes, there were a few of him as a baby with his parents - He remembered chasing the family cat on his toy broom and giggling like crazy. And, projectile vomiting on Peter Pettigrew. But, what made it funnier, was Sirius narrating what people were seeing.

After running through Harry's infancy - no one wanted to show what happened from October 1981 until he returned to the wizarding world - they moved on to Daphne's childhood.

From those, he learned that, as a child of about five, Daphne had accidently discovered a spell to turn everything pink when she picked up her mother's wand. _Everything_. Including the house elves, the manor and - more importantly - her mother and baby sister.

Then they moved on to Harry and Daphne together. Short memories of them getting to know one another at the Estate when they were eleven, and then at Hogwarts. Their first transfiguration, first charm, working on assignments together in the library, Harry blushing when Daphne kissed him on the cheek in public, her running into the Great Hall on Valentine's day 1992 with her first twinned roses - and snogging him in front of everyone - them sharing a picnic by the lake, a short part of Harry and Neville fighting the basilisk in 1993, Harry loaded down with shopping bags on a shopping trip to muggle London, their dance at the Yule Ball, Harry trying on new clothes while Daphne ordered him about, and his reciting of poetry to her in the Great Hall while carrying a large bouquet of red roses. A lot of memories were covered in a short space of time.

When it finished a lot of the guests were talking excitedly among themselves. It was a wonderful concept and Harry could see a lot of guests really enjoyed it. Though, it was embarrassing for the both of them, in some parts.

With that concluded, the newlyweds led the opening dance on the dance floor. The bridal party then joined in; quickly followed by others.

Harry managed to dance with Daphne, Tracey, Hermione, Susan, Hannah, Luna, Isabel, Monica, Aunt Amelia, Gran; and even Pansy for a short time. As the evening was winding to a close - and guests were slowly filtering out - Harry realised just how happy he was. Life felt complete.

The feeling was not to last.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The newlyweds had decided to flee magical Britain that very night to start their honeymoon. Neither trusted either Sirius, nor the twins, not to unmercifully prank them on the very night they were married.

Once all the guests were gone, the two changed into travelling clothes. Harry left the note he'd prepared earlier on the informal dining table - a place he knew would be checked - and, together, they grabbed their luggage and used a goblin prepared portkey to take them to the International portkey arrival point in Washington, DC, in the USA.

The shift from Merlin's Bridge in Haverfordwest in Wales, to Washington, DC, regained the new Lord and Lady Potter another five hours of 'day'. It was a few minutes to midnight when they left, and almost exactly 7.00pm when they landed.

Passing out of the International arrival point and through magical customs and immigration, Harry realised they'd arrived in a hidden section of Dulles International Airport. "Okay, wow!" he said.

The pair then exchanged some Galleons for American Franklins and United States Dollars. Then moved across to the domestic portkey departure area to take a portkey to MaNY; the Magical area of New York. From there, they took a public Floo to the Greengrass Penthouse. They were met in the penthouse by a Greengrass house elf.

"Hello, Gabby," said Daphne to the elf.

"Miss Daphne!" exclaimed the elf. "How be you?"

"We're well, thank you," she replied. "You're aware that, as of tonight, I'm now Lady Potter?"

"Oh, yes, Miss Daphne," gushed the elf. "And be this Lord Potter?"

"That's correct," she replied. "This is Lord Harry James Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor."

"Welcome, Master Harry," said the elf, coming forward and taking Harry's hand in both of hers and touching the back of his fingers to her forehead. Harry remembered the gesture from when Daphne was recognised by the Potter elves.

"Thank you, Gabby," he said.

Stepping back, the little elf told Daphne, "I have prepared a light supper for you both if you is hungry. You will also find Time Jump Potions on your night stands in the master bedroom."

Gabby then popped away with their luggage.

The entire trip from Potter Manor to Penthouse Greengrass took them less than half an hour, and most of that was spent passing through customs.

Now that they were finally at the first stop on their honeymoon, Harry became quite nervous. "Umm," he tried. "Shall we give Gabby time to get everything ready and - have that snack? Or, what do you want to do?"

With a sly smile, Daphne replied, "Snack, first. As you said, we'll give her time to properly unpack. Then, I think, we should head for bed. While it might be only 7.00pm, here; it's midnight where we left. And, we _did_ have a very busy day."

"Ummm - okay," he sheepishly replied. "That - makes a lot of sense.

After a few nibbles on snacks, Harry asked, "Yes, a-and - umm - what shall we do now?"

Daphne giggled and said, "Well, Lord Potter, it's time for you to make your wife - _physically_." She took him by the hand and dragged him upstairs to the master bedroom.

"Oh. Yeah," he said, as he was being dragged along.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry woke the next morning to sunshine coming in through the window. At first, he wondered what was lying cuddled to his side and partially on his chest. Then he remembered.

'Wow!' he thought, with a grin. 'That was _a-maz-ing_.'

Thinking back to the previous evening, he remembered Daphne dragging him up to the master bedroom of the penthouse and practically ordering him to get ready for bed. He ducked into the ensuite bathroom, brushed his teeth and stripped down to his boxers before returning to the bedroom.

As he walked out, Daphne looked down and saw his 'excitement' before giggling and brushing past him to take her own turn in the ensuite.

He'd crawled in to bed and waited.

He'd almost drifted off to sleep when Daphne finally came out. It would have been _disastrous_ if he had. She was wearing a short diaphanous nightgown that left nothing to the imagination of what was underneath. Especially, as she was backlit by the light coming from the bathroom.

With a sultry smile on her face, she calmly walked over to the bed, drew back the covers and climbed in. Harry was as hard as a rock in anticipation.

They started together quite tenderly, with just a cuddle and sensuous kiss. Then things got going from there.

By the time he was poised to enter her for the first time, he hesitated. "I've heard it can hurt a girl; the first time..." he said.

Looking up at him, she tenderly brushed his cheek with the palm of her hand. "Don't worry," she near whispered. "I've taken a special potion Mum got for me. It won't hurt."

With a groan of relief, Harry then pushed through; forcing himself right to the 'hilt'.

He didn't know for how long they made love that night. But, from the angle of the sun coming in through the window, he knew it was early to mid morning outside, New York time. That would make it early afternoon back in magical Britain.

He was trying to move in such a way as not to wake his new wife - 'Wife!' he thought to himself, a grin plastering his face. 'I'm married and have a wife!' - But realised, when she suddenly grabbed him tight, that he'd woken her anyway.

"Good morning, Lady Potter," he quietly said.

"Mmm," she said, relaxing and snuggling in. "I like that."

"So do I," he softly replied. "But, I've got to get up."

"No, you don't," she softly whined. "We're on our honeymoon."

"Actually; yeah, I do," he replied with a bit of a chuckle. "Nature calls."

With a grumbling sigh, she released him. "Hurry back," she said, as he climbed out of bed. "I think I need you to make me Lady Potter, again."

Harry startled a little before he dashed into the bathroom to do what he needed to do. A quick breath freshening charm and he ran back to the bed, diving under the covers.

Daphne giggled and said, "Find motivation, did you?"

Though she couldn't see it, he grinned back before snuggling in for more of what he had the night before. Daphne giggled again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

An hour later and they finally decided it was time they both got up. Daphne had planned on showing Harry the sights of MaNY; and New York, in general. And, she'd lose the opportunity to show him around if they didn't make a start on it.

Dressing in lightweight mugglewear, Daphne took him direct to MaNY.

Harry was astounded. While the area did not appear to be 'ultra-modern', it was _way_ more modern than the Victorian era style shop façades back in Diagon Alley. Inside, the stores were just as modern.

They had electric lighting and cash registers. And this surprised no one.

"Electricity!" Harry gasped to Daphne. "They're using _electricity_."

Daphne nodded and said, "Yes. The magicals of America aren't as backwards as they are in Britain. I love my home country, but we're just so - antiquated!

"While we use magical candles and torches, they've moved with the times and modernised. It's an area I intend to explore when we've finished our education."

"You've not spoken much on what you planned to do once we graduate, before," he said. "Is this what you want to do?"

Hesitating a moment to think on it, she replied, "It is. As you know, my father is involved in the import business. I want to start up a similar endeavour and import much of what they take for granted, here."

"That's a _wonderful_ idea," said Harry, happy she'd decided on what she wanted to do with her life.

"The Wizengamot and Ministry have blocked, through legislation, much of what I wanted to do," she said. "However, now that you've just picked up two new Lordships - soon to be three - you can now work towards getting the support of your fellow Lords, to see that legislation overturned."

Nodding, he mused, "I can do that. I needed a focus for my legislative agenda. That can be part of it."

"Part?" she asked. "What else are you planning."

With a shrug, he replied, "Overturning the laws discriminating against half-bloods and muggleborns.

"While talking with Professor Flitwick, I learned that half-bloods pay about a quarter again what purebloods pay, and muggleborns pay about double. I told him I wanted that immediately scrapped, but the Professor said it was a legal requirement.

"Therefore, I need to overturn the law that forces it. And - since I'm going to do that, anyway - I thought I might as well get rid of _all_ the laws that discriminate."

"Mmm," she chuckled. "The pureblood traditionalists are going to _hate_ you."

"They do, already," he smiled. "After all, I just bumped off their hero, Riddle."

"True!" she mused.

After shopping for a bit, and checking out a store that sold enchanted electronic equipment to homeowners, the newlyweds stopped at a coffee shop to go over some of the information Harry managed to get out of the storeowner who sold the electronics.

"They're enchanted," he said. "They use runes to create null-magic fields within the electronic equipment to stop ambient magic effecting the inner workings.

"Plus, they can also use specific power runes to provide electric power in place of electric cords and plugs. It's all so very clever."

Daphne nodded and said, "I've ordered and paid for a couple of different items to be shipped home. I'm going to open them up and have a look how they do it."

"You're not worried about intellectual property?" he asked.

"No," she replied. "I'm hoping I can design a different way; so we can do it, ourselves, back in Britain. If not, then I'm hoping to pay a royalty fee for the use of their rune set designs. And, if I can't do that, that's where the import business comes into play."

Harry could see the logic of it and nodded.

After their bite to eat, they headed out into muggle New York to have a look at some of the sights, before finally returning to the penthouse late afternoon.

They spent the evening practicing making Heirs.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After a couple of days in New York, they moved up to Salem, Massachusetts. There, they caught the magical ferry from Palmer Cove and visited The Salem Witches' Institute, which had it's own island under a combined Muggle-Repelling Charm and wide area Fidelius in Salem Sound near Beverly Harbour.

As they boarded the ferry they were shown a huge sign that said, '_The Salem Witches' Institute is located in Salem Sound_'.

Harry wanted to know how the whole thing worked if there was a Fidelius, so talked to the pilot of the ferry.

"Well," the man began, "when a secret keeper dies, those who knew of the secret at that time all become the new secret keepers.

"The founder of the school, Samantha Stevens - bless her immortal soul - chose a secret keeper for the Charm who did not have long to live. And, before that person died, she had them make that sign you saw when you boarded. Plus, two more.

"That way, you can only get to know where the school is by boarding this old ferry, at least once. At least, this one or one of the other two. We've got three now. And, when a ferry needs replacing, that sign gets moved to the new one.

"The other huge Hiding Charm on the school is the Non-Mag Repelling Charm. I think you folks call it a Muggle Repelling Charm - don't care much for that term, myself; nor did I care for the term we used to use here - 'mortal'. It made no sense, seeing as we're also mortal - just longer lived.

"Anyways, this is all information you can read about in the book, '_Salem: A History_'. You can buy a copy of it in the bookstore available on the island."

After thanking the man for the information, the two sat back to enjoy the short ride out to the island.

"This is nice," said Harry. "Don't know if I'd think so if there was a major storm, though."

"I'm sure they have magical means in place for just such an eventuality," Daphne replied.

"And, what did you think of that huge hall we came through to board the ferry?" he asked. There were more fireplaces than what I remembered at the Ministry. Plus, they had an attached multi-story carpark."

"The brochure says it appears to be a huge abandoned dockside warehouse to muggles; or, non-mags, as they call them here," she said. "For muggle parents, the driver wears a bracelet that allows him or her to see where they need to go. Other muggles in the automobile are warned to close their eyes just before they pass through the ward because it can be - disconcerting - otherwise, for them."

On the island, Harry and Daphne were met by the School Headmistress - or 'Principal', as they call them in America - 'Mizz' Tabitha Stevens.

After a short tour, the two were escorted to the Principal's Offices. She offered them refreshments before Harry said, "I have to admit, I expected to see a school for witches, only."

Tabitha, as she asked them to call her, chuckled and said, "We've been 'co-ed' for almost thirty years, now. Originally, it was just a trial - to have boys attend - but it remained in place. Officially, it's _still_ just a trial; just - ongoing.

"I very much doubt we'll be going back to witches only, though. There is something to be said, psychologically, for allowing boys and girls to learn together rather than apart. The boys' school in Richmond, Virginia, - The Richmond Warlock School - now caters for our little ones."

"Your name - Stevens..."

"My mother was the founder," she interrupted. "The witches, in our line, maintain their maiden name. I was trained from a young age to eventually be the Principal for the school. I guess, you could say, this school is my birthright."

"Your - mother?" asked Daphne.

"Alive," sighed Ms Stevens. "She retired when my father - a non-mag - passed away about five years ago, now."

"I'm sorry," said Daphne.

Ms Stevens waved it off and said, "It was expected. Dad died of cancer. A non-mag disease that, thankfully, does not strike us of magical ability." With another sigh she said, "Dad loved this place. He was an advertising executive, by profession. Almost until he died he handled all the advertising and public relations work for the school. My younger brother, Adam, has taken over from him.

"Anyways," she said, giving herself a bit of a shake, "Sorry for reminiscing. Maudlin moments strike me now and then. You've come to see if you can - acquire, shall we say - information on improving standards at Hogwarts. I must say, I find I feel relish for the opportunity to assist."

Harry and Daphne spoke with Tabitha for quite a while. She even brought in some of her teaching staff to give their ideas. Mostly, it was felt the old castle needed to be modernised before much of the modern teaching practices could be implemented.

They came away from the school quite happy with what they learned, though. Tabitha was even willing to host the odd professor, or two, from Hogwarts to show them teaching principles and methods they employed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As a treat, Harry took Daphne down to Florida for two and a half days of fun at Disneyworld, staying at the top class hotel in one of their penthouse suites.

She'd never before been to an adventure park resort. She'd heard of them, but never even seen one before. Then again, neither had Harry. He just knew of their existence and knew they'd have fun; which they did. The days were filled with fun and thrills where they played, hard. The nights were filled with a different sort of fun.

To calm things down a bit, they took an international portkey across to France, to spend a few days at _La Retraite De Potier_, the Potter family chateau on _Chemin Lieutenant Aviateur Paul Gueyraud_ in Toulon on the south coast of France. This required a major time zone change so, unlike what they did in New York, they actually took their Time Jump Potion to get their inner clocks synchronised with the local time.

The next morning they awoke to wonderful views and a gorgeous sea breeze. From the south facing balcony, they had a beautiful view over _Costa Azzurra_ - the French Riviera.

While in America, they had sex; in France, they made love. In America, it was hard and energetic; in France, it was slow and sensual. After two and half days - and Harry rebonding the two house elves to House Potter while there - they moved on.

They headed for the Basque Country in northern Spain near the city of Bilbao. Daphne was on a mission for her father to renew contact with one of his contacts, who worked imports for him from Spain. They found him at the Port of Bilbao in the port business area of a Barakaldo.

On the way to see the man, Harry asked, "So, what does this old Basque gypsy do for your father?"

Daphne laughed and said, "Oh, he's not a gypsy. Though, that's the image he cultivates. He's a Basque '_aidekist_'. That means - magic user. At least, that's what he likes to think he is. For us, what he is, is an exporter.

"He works as the collection point for many of the magical growers in Spain. He gathers all the plant-based potion ingredients, fruits, vegetables, and the like that Dad imports, and exports them to Dad.

"There's another man in Antwerp in northern Belgium, and another in Esbjerg in western Denmark. At least, those are the ones I know down the west coast of Europe. But, anyway, we don't need to worry about any of those, we just need to see Señor Caballero."

Harry burst out laughing. "Seriously?" he asked. "That's what he calls himself?"

"Yes," she replied. "What's so funny?"

"Well," he snickered. "Señor Caballero can translate out a number of ways. 'Mister Mister', is one; so's 'Sir Knight' aaaaand - 'Gentleman Lord'.

"When we see him, call him 'Sir Knight' and see what he does," he suggested.

When they finally _did_ track him down - in a magical waterside dive bar, at that - she said, "Well, sir knight; is this the way a gentleman lord should behave?"

He burst out laughing and gave her a light pinch on her cheek. "I like you, Lady Greengrass-Potter. You have - how they say - _Agallas!_ Yes?"

"He means spunk, pluck, courage," Harry wryly supplied for her.

"And this _fine_ young gentleman with you?" the old scallywag asked her.

"My husband, Lord Slytherin," she smirked. "My father, Lord Greengrass, requests you contact him and let him know by which name you're going by now. His messages to you don't seem to get through."

He laughed a big raucous laugh, and said, "Then I shall do just _that_ - Missus Slytherin."

"Thank you," she said in a flat voice.

He tried to get her and Harry to join him in a drink of the local wine, but she begged off and the newlyweds took their leave.

After they walked out, Harry said, "A rather unsavoury sort, is he not?"

She shrugged and said, "Maybe; but, generally reliable. He's able to acquire goods Dad's unable to get anywhere else - and, we'll leave it at that."

Harry grinned and said, "We can do that."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

From northern Spain they headed direct to Paris. Daphne wanted a couple of nights in the City of Lights and romance before they finally headed for home. And Harry wanted to drop by the Delacours, to meet the promise he made to Jean-Paul and Apolline during the Tri-Wizard Tournament.

They stayed the night in the District de Magie and sent off an owl. The next morning, Apolline turned up and practically ordered them to pack and follow her through the floo to Delacour Manor in the little coastal village of Piriac-su-Mer on the Bay of Biscay. Straight line it was about four hundred kilometres due north of where they were in Bilbao.

As Harry stepped out of the floo in Delacour Manor he was almost tackled to the ground by a pale blonde haired nine year old. He first thought a younger version of Tori had planned to meet them there.

"_Harry, mon héros, vous avez frappé à visiter!_" (Harry, my hero, you've come to visit!) gushed the girl.

"Gabrielle?" he asked the top of the head of the little person who was currently trying to squeeze the life out of him with her hands wrapped around his waist.

"_Oui!_" (Yes!) she said, looking up at him.

"_Comment vas-tu, ma petite princesse?_" (How are you, my little princess?) he asked with a chuckle.

"_Je vais bien, merci._" (I am well, thank you.) she brightly replied. "_Pourquoi êtes-vous ici?_" (Why are you here?)

"_Vos parents m'ont invité._" (Your parents invited me.) he replied.

Pulling away from him and looking at Daphne, she asked him, "_Et qui est-ce?_" (And, who is this?)

"Ah!" replied Harry. Reaching out to take Daphne's hand, he said, "_C'est ma femme, Daphne - Dame _Daphne Greengrass-Potter. _Vous n'avez pas eu la chance de la rencontrer alors que vous étiez à _Hogwarts_._" (This is my wife, Daphne - Lady Daphne Greengrass-Potter. You didn't get the chance to meet her while you were at Hogwarts.)

She backed away from him and stamped her little foot. "_Vous auriez dû me marier! Vous êtes mon chevalier en armure étincelante et vous m'avez sauvé du fond de ce lac horrible._" (You should have married me! You are my knight in shining armour and you rescued me from the bottom of that horrid lake.) she grumped.

"Gabrielle!" snapped Apolline. "'Arry and Daphne 'ave been togezzer since zey were eleven years old! Zey 'ave been betrothed to one anozzer since zey were born. It eez unfair of you to deny the love zey have for one anozzer!"

Gabrielle just stood there and pouted before her expression, again, changed to one of happiness. She ducked back in and hugged him again. "I am steel glad you are 'ere!" she said, before she released him and ran off, giggling.

"Another of the hostages?" asked Daphne.

Harry nodded and said, "Fleur's hostage."

"Come," said Apolline. "I shall show you to your room."

As the newlyweds followed Apolline through the manor, Harry said to Daphne, "The Delacours are of the singular impression I am responsible for saving Gabrielle's life. I am unable to disabuse them of that notion."

"Because eet eez _true_," Apolline said firmly, over her shoulder. "You alsso may not agree; but, you did eet again when you keeled that _bâtard_, Tom Reedle, on the night off ze theerd task."

"_That_, my lady," said Harry, with a bit of a sad grumble, "was just Potter blind _luck_. And, I killed him to save my _own_ life. Everyone else's was just - supplemental."

As Apolline stopped and indicated an open door off the hall, Daphne reached across and smacked Harry on the back of the head.

"_Ow!_" he said, glancing over at her. "What was _that_ for?"

With a sigh, she said, "Because, sometimes, you're an _idiot_. You trained since you were _eleven_ years old to take Riddle _out_. For three and a half _years_ you worked _hard_ to develop the skills necessary to defeat him. _That_ is not '_blind luck_'."

She then stormed into the room a few steps before spinning around and glaring at him again. "Honestly, Harry," she said, exasperated. "You worked _hard_ to beat him. You _trained_, hour after hour, against those target dummies. You figured out how to draw in more magical power to augment the _impressive_ amount you already had. You _practiced_ holding that magical power within you. And, when you weren't actually training, you were learning more curses, charms, hexes, jinxes and even just cantrips just in case any single one of them could have been the one that allowed you to beat him. You trained to increase your _speed_, your magical and physical stamina, your casting - _everything_. Anything you could use, in some way, to defeat that evil man, you learned and added to your list of impressive skills."

Throwing her hands up in mock despair, she said, "Harry - you are a _hero_ - you're Gabrielle's hero - you're Apolline's hero - you're Magical _Britain_'s hero - But, more than that, you're _my_ hero. Accept it, you noble _git!_"

Harry strode the couple of steps forward it took to wrap Daphne in his arms, and did so; holding her tight.

"Well said, Daphne," Apolline firmly said. "Very well said, indeed."

Hesitating a couple of moments, she then said, "Make yourselves comfortable, I shall meet you down in ze informal zitting room." Then she pulled the door closed on the two.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	82. Ch-Ch-Changes

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty Two - Ch-Ch-Changes**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

They had been at Delacour Manor for a couple of days - and Jean-Paul had even taken him in to his offices at the French Ministry of Magic - when he received a message from Sirius via his mirror.

"Dumbledore's dead, pup," said Sirius. "They think it's just due to old age, but they're not ruling out foul play."

Harry sighed and said, "What do they know?"

"He was supposed to have attended a meeting he'd organised with the Head of the Unspeakables and never turned up," explained Sirius. "At first, they thought he'd decided just not to go. However, he didn't turn up for a meeting at the Hogshead - his brother's pub - in Hogsmeade, either.

"Dumbledore had been trying to convince Filius to again allow him access to Hogwarts. But, Filius kept blowing him off..."

"That was my doing," said Harry. "I'd told Professor Flitwick he was banned from the grounds."

With a nod, Sirius continued, "Well, Filius finally agreed to meet with him. Not to let him in; but, to tell him in person he was banned from the grounds. But, he didn't show.

"So, Filius convinced Aberforth - Dumbledore's brother and owner of the Hogshead - to pay him a visit at the Dumbledore cottage in Godric's Hollow. That's where Dumbledore's been living. Aberforth found him there, dead.

"So, Aberforth called in the aurors to investigate. Your Aunt Amelia led the investigation, but all they found was him, dead. There was nothing out of place, and the wards hadn't been damaged; so they think he just up and died."

"Well," sighed Harry. "I hate to say it; but, I'm a little relieved, quite frankly."

"There's no shame in that," said Sirius. "The man made your life a living hell."

"Anyway," he said, changing the subject. "When are you looking to come home?"

"Soon," replied Harry. "The next day or so, at any rate. Daphne and I want to get to Hogwarts and take a look at how the elves have done with the modernisation of our new suites. Plus, there're friends and such we want to catch up with."

"Not me?" pouted the old dog.

"Of course you, too," laughed Harry. "You and Remus, both!"

"But, I think Daphne wants to put her personal touches onto Potter Manor; now that it's her home," said Harry.

"That's fair enough," said Sirius. "Your mother did exactly the same when she and your father married."

After finishing his talk with Sirius, Harry went off in search of Daphne. He found her talking with Apolline and Gabrielle in the parlour.

"Hi, love," he said.

"What's wrong?" she asked, a little worried.

"Sirius called to let me know Dumbledore's dead," he replied. "It seems it all got to much for him and he passed away."

Daphne seemed to think about that for a few moments before she firmly said, "Good. With the amount of interference he had in your life - especially subjecting you to the Dursleys - I think I'm rather glad."

Harry leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Me, too," he simply said.

"I shall 'ave to let Jean-Paul know, immediately," said Apolline. "Howevair, I, too, am glad 'e eez dead."

She rose and went to the fireplace to call her husband.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After two and a half weeks of honeymoon - about how long they'd planned - they returned to magical Britain.

They arrived via International portkey in the portkey arrivals lounge at the Ministry, startling the immigration and customs people of the DMLE with who they found arriving.

They quickly passed through customs and headed down to the atrium to floo away, back to Potter Manor.

They arrived to an empty manor; except for the elves, of course. And allowed Petey and Ninny to take their bags upstairs to unpack.

Harry took a wander through the grounds, outside, while Daphne covered inside. They met back in the Entry Hall.

"How many?" he simply asked.

"Three," she grinned. "You?"

"One," he said. "A charm on the broom closet to make the brooms come out and dance when the door was opened. How about yours?"

"One on the bed linked to a Monitoring Charm I think my mother put in place..." she said.

Harry interrupted, "Probably there to make sure neither of us gets hurt while practicing baby-making."

She blushed and smacked him on the arm. "Anyways," she said, trying to continue. "There was another on the toilet that would have made ribald comments, I think. And it's the sort of toilet humour I'd expect of your godfather."

"Ha ha!" Harry said in a flat voice.

With a smirk, she said, "The third wasn't a prank, though." He face took on a frown before she said, "There was a pretty complex Compulsion Charm on your office chair. I think someone must've snuck in there from the reception and placed it. I've no idea who, though."

"You've removed it?" he asked.

"Yes," she replied. "I have this sneaking suspicion someone wants you to sign something you shouldn't."

"Mmm," he said. "They'd anticipated I'd do my paperwork in there, at the desk. We may never know who did it."

"I guess we should thank the twins and Sirius for making us so paranoid," she said. "If it wasn't for our belief they'd use the opportunity of us being away to set up pranks, we might not have scanned everything."

"I'll let Aunt Amelia know about the Compulsion Charm," he said. "And, if something comes in that looks like it might have been tied to the Charm, I'll call her in.

"In the meantime, I have some revenge pranking to do."

"_We_, dear; _we_," chided his love.

"Of course," he contritely replied. "How silly of me to forget that."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

After visiting the Greengrasses - that is, Cygnus, Isabel and Astoria - to let them know they were back, the two then went to the Black House to let Sirius and Remus know.

Then, as Harry was eager to look, it was off to the castle to have a look at the modified suites.

They were not stopped by anyone as they entered the castle; so, just quietly walked up to the third floor. Harry was about to give the password, 'courage under fire', when the portrait simply slid out of the way before he could do so.

Walking up the short flight of stairs and into the original living room, Harry said, "Wow!"

"I'll say," said Daphne, moving up to his side.

With a soft double pop, Frosty and Maisey appeared before them, "Welcome back, my Lord and Lady," said Frosty.

"Thank you, Frosty - Maisey," said Harry as Daphne did the same. "Are the alterations completed?"

"Yes, my Lord," said Frosty.

"Thank you," replied Harry.

The living room was now decked out as a study area. The walls had been cleaned and freshly painted in a soft driftwood colour with a hint of pink to add the sense of warmth. Curtains adorned the windows.

The potions lab had been retained and modernised. There were now plenty of potions ingredients all under Stasis Charms.

The armoury had been converted into a small library. The walls were filled with bookshelves, plus there were two sitting back-to-back down the middle of the room. It left just enough room for two people to pass one another down each aisle.

The shelves were filled with the books the elves had rescued from the Come and Go Room. And there was a lot more than either Harry or Daphne remembered being in the room when they'd used it.

Across the way, the kitchen was still a kitchen, but the old brick oven and hotplate had been replaced with a large cast iron stove. There was, again, food in the pantry; with all of it under Stasis Charms.

There was now a second door along the same side as the door to the kitchen. A quick look inside showed it was a half-bath and toilet. That is, a toilet with a small vanity included.

Upstairs, in the master bedroom, the bed had been improved upon with modern sheets, pillows, pillowcases and doonas. The walk in robe now had better shelving and hanging space. And, the bathroom had a complete 'makeover', including a large shower and private toilet.

Throughout, the same paint colour scheme was used as in the common room. The floors were now covered in wall to wall carpet in all the 'dry' areas of the apartment. And, Harry could feel a decent underlay underneath the carpet.

From there, they took the connecting passage down to the old Slytherin suites. Here, the changes were even more drastic. This time the paint colour scheme was a very pale mint green. The carpet was the same as with upstairs.

The living room had become like a House common room with plenty of armchairs and loveseats around. Plus there were a few coffee/occasional tables, here and there.

The potions lab was now a private office. There was even a _huge_ 'copy' of the Marauder's Map on the wall where it could be seen from the big desk. Harry wondered how Frosty and Maisey accomplished it.

The armoury was left alone to double up as private storage. What weapons remained in the other armoury was also moved into here.

The kitchen had been converted into two small bedrooms with a bed each and a shared ensuite. As above, a second door was located on the wall of what was the kitchen, siding on to the living/common room to allow access to a toilet for anyone there.

Downstairs in the twinned bedrooms, nothing much had changed. But, both bathrooms had been modernised as with the Gryffindor master bedroom ensuite. The larger bedroom, which was once Salazaar's, now had twin beds instead of the single.

Combined, they now had sleeping arrangements for six singles or couples across six beds in five rooms. Harry and Daphne would sleep as a couple in the Gryffindor master bedroom. And Tracey would probably take the single bedroom that was the bedroom of Salazaar's sister. That way, she had her own bathroom.

That left the double bedrooms on the same level as Tracey, and the twinned bedrooms where the Slytherin kitchen was. Harry was thinking girl guests downstairs, and boy guests up; but, expected to be 'outvoted' on any decision he made, anyway.

Returning to the Gryffindor - now - study area, Harry looked at Daphne and asked, "What do you think?"

"It's _per_fect," she sighed. "I'm finally going to be out of that chilly snake pit, and up somewhere where I'm going to be warm! _And_, I'm going to be able to bring my best friend up here with me!" She practically leapt at him and threw her arms around him, squealing with happiness.

"I thought _I_ was your best friend," Harry mock-pouted.

"Don't be silly!" she replied. "_You're_ my husband. _Tracey's_ my best friend!"

Harry laughed before he became playful. "Hey!" he said. "Wanna go upstairs and give the master bed a workout?"

Daphne blushed and exclaimed, "Merlin! You're a sex maniac! - But, yes, I want to do that!"

Laughing, he dragged her upstairs and declaimed, "Be aware, my Lady. You're about to be _ravished!_"

Daphne squealed, ran to the bed and threw herself upon it. "Well, my Lord? Are you going to _ravish_ me or not?"

Harry laughed and proceeded to disrobe while walking to the bed.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the last couple of weeks before school restarted, Harry visited with Headmaster Flitwick to ensure things were on track with his plans for the school. The Headmaster and staff had been busy buying in new equipment and plants.

The old 'school' brooms had been 'ceremonially' burned by Madam Hooch and Hagrid. And she happily accepted about forty beginner's brooms - Cleansweep 'T's. The T stood for 'Trainer'.

Professor Sprout had managed to collect a great swag of seedlings and cuttings she'd always wanted but could never afford. She'd called in Neville and a couple of her other favourite Herbology students to help her set them all up.

Neville had reported, earlier, by owl that he was having a ball.

The new Professor for History of Magic, Professor Jones, had arrived quite early, according to Professor Flitwick. Harry hadn't had time to send Binns on his way; but, ultimately he didn't need to. The new professor walked into the classroom, where Binns was in the process of teaching to and empty room, saw what the ghost was doing and said, "Stop!"

"Who are you and why are you here?" asked Binns.

"I'm your replacement," replied Professor Jones.

"Oh, good," Binns apparently said. "It's about time you got here." And faded away. He'd not been seen since.

Harry laughed when he'd heard that. "That's it?" he asked. "That's all it took?"

"Apparently so," said the little professor, chuckling. "Binns was just waiting for his replacement to turn up so he could leave.

"Oh," he continued. "Tim - sorry - _Professor_ Jones was introduced to Hat and they spent about an hour chatting about history. It seems Hat is about to become Adjunct Professor Hat and will be teaching some classes."

Harry grinned and said, "That's great, Professor" And turned to the Sorting Hat, and said, "Congratulations, Hat."

"Thank you, Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor," replied the Hat, a little smug about it all.

Professor Babbage had spent a month as a guest of the Grangers and had her eyes well and truly opened as to the reality of the muggle world. She'd immediately returned to the castle and demanded three complete sets of the latest issue of the muggles' Encyclopaedia Britannica be ordered, and that they be replaced each time a new edition came out.

She also ordered a book called '_How Stuff Works_' as her primary text for years third through fifth, and a general science text for her NEWT classes. The old text was immediately tossed as being completely useless.

She also brought back with her a small stack of books on astronomy and a decent sized portable telescope. She and Professor Sinistra had spent an evening in the astronomy tower. The next morning they were down at breakfast demanding the school remove the brass telescope off the requirements list for students and, instead, buy at least forty - because that's how many brooms were purchased - of a certain type of muggle telescope. They could not, in good faith, expect students to foot the bill for that sort of equipment.

Madam Irma Pince was having a field day restocking her library. And had even opened the second section of the library that had not been opened for many a year.

She had first come back with about two hundred books and was shocked when the Headmaster asked if that was a sample. When she replied she thought it was already too much, he practically demanded she go spend at least ₲50,000. After that, books started arriving via floo in crates.

Each professor was also given a small fund of ₲1,500 and told to buy what books they specifically wanted for their field. They were also permitted to spend it on periodicals that related to their field. Any book any professor wanted specific to their chosen field was also added to the booklist for Madam Pince to buy for the library to have at least one copy.

The Headmaster had also been working on who to bring in as Heads of Houses. So far, he thought he had the people he wanted, and they were due to start the next day. Just in case one or more didn't work out, he also had a list of candidates to replace them.

Each was given a small office and bedroom attached via magic to the common rooms of each of the four Houses. That way, a student could go see them at any time of the day or night.

Professors Sprout, Babbling, Vector and Sinistra were all informed of the change to an individual Head of House and were, at first, disappointed; even a little angry. However, when they learned that the new pay structure meant they'd not be losing any pay - and would, however, increase their pay - for the most part they changed their attitudes. Only Professor Sprout was sad to lose the Head of House role, and that was only because she'd been doing it for so long.

Professor Dinwaddy was ambivalent to it all. However, the idea of having a near unlimited budget for her potions laboratory made her happy. Her only real request was to move the laboratory out of the dungeon, which Professor Flitwick was more than happy to allow.

As he had stated at the outset, Professor Duncan would not be returning for the 1995-96 school year. And the Headmaster had been having difficulties finding a suitable replacement.

Two days before the Hogwarts Express was due to leave Kings Cross, he dropped a bomb shell. The Ministry had enacted an old decree which stated, if the Headmaster could not find a replacement for a vacant slot on the Teaching roster by the day before school was due to start, the Wizarding Examinations Authority would have to step in and appoint such a person.

In the end Professor Duncan changed his mind and agreed to return so long as Harry would also be an Adjunct Professor for DADA, and assist him in some classes. Plus, he'd heard of the curse on the position - who, really, hadn't? - and wanted curse breakers brought in to - if nothing else - check.

Harry agreed and Professor Flitwick contacted the goblins, who would send a team of curse breakers over to check for the curse.

"Actually, Professor," said Harry, thinking about it. "Get them to do a scan of the entire castle. Who knows _what's_ been cast - and yet lingers - inside these walls over the past millennia."

"I'll contact them this very afternoon and ask they put a priority on it," replied the Professor. "Do you mind if I tell them it's a special request of yourself?"

"Not at all," replied Harry. "I don't mind my name being used for something that concerns the safety of our children, like this."

Something Harry struggled with was the decision with what to wear as a student. His fall back was to remain wearing Ravenclaw students' robes. However, he felt he needed something a little different as he was also Lord Gryffindor and Lord Slytherin.

When he asked Daphne for advice, she immediately dragged him off to her favourite designer. The designer, a - flouncy - wizard given to making many gestures with his hands and an odd speaking affectation, declared it a most interesting challenge he was eager to sink his teeth into.

After many designs - some so over the top they challenged Dumbledore's own dress sense, let alone Lockhart's - Harry and Daphne were finally able to whittle it down to one. His school robes would be of the same style as all other male students but the Ravenclaw trim would be very muted. His overrobe would not have the dark blue inner lining; instead, it would be black. There would be no colour trim on his jumpers. And his tie would be the plain black Hogwarts tie. The Ravenclaw badge on his overrobes would remain on the left while he would wear the twin Gryffindor and Slytherin crests on the right, but shrunk down, with a gold surround.

As a style, it clearly marked him as a student; but, dramatically removed him from being 'just' a Ravenclaw student. He also had a set of under 'uniforms' made that he could wear under his school over robe, which removed him as a student. These under robes were straight black with a jacket, rather than a v-neck school jumper. If he was in a hurry, he could leave the grey school slacks on and just change from the waist up.

He was hoping changing wasn't going to be a problem, though, with his and Daphne's suite being accessed from the very handy third floor. Especially, if he was also going to be an Adjunct Professor of Defence Against The Dark Arts.

He ordered sufficient of both styles and had them owl delivered to Potter Manor with plenty of time to spare.

For Daphne, he told her to choose what she wanted to wear. She was, after all, Lady Slytherin and Lady Gryffindor, besides being Lady Potter.

Daphne decided on sticking with the standard school uniform for female students but added a gold surround to the Slytherin Crest. On the right she wore a much smaller Gryffindor Crest, also with the gold surround.

"I want to show that I'm not 'just' a Slytherin student," she'd explained. "Wearing the Gryffindor crest also shows I'm open to students of that House to recognise me as being _of_ that House."

Harry liked it, and supported her decision.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Finally, the 1st of September was back upon them. Harry and Daphne made arrangements with Petey and Ninny to move their entire wardrobes to Hogwarts - since they had the room in their new suite - and sent their student equipment direct. Basically, they didn't need their trunks at all. Instead, Harry carried a small overnight bag that contained the uniforms for both he and Daphne to change into on the train.

Harry arranged for both of them to floo to Greengrass Estate and joined Isabel and Astoria for the trip to the station. They left early to be there in plenty of time.

On arriving on the platform and walking towards the owners' carriage, Harry could see a few students and parents trying their damnedest to get into it.

"Excuse me," he called, walking up to the door with Daphne on his arm. "Do you mind?"

"What is this, Potter?" sneered Malfoy.

"Ah," said Harry. "It's the owners' carriage, Malfoy. In other words - mine."

Malfoy held up his hand showing the ring of the House of Malfoy. "It's _Lord_ Malfoy, Potter," he sneered.

"And it's Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor, Malfoy," Harry sneered right back. "As I used to tell Dumbledore, if you're not willing to use _my_ title, don't bitch and whine when I don't use _yours_.

"Now, why are you attempting to enter my carriage without permission?"

Malfoy struck his pureblood Lord pose and said, "On my father's passing, I have become a Governor on the School Board. Therefore, this carriage should be for me and my friends."

"Ah!" said Harry, understanding. "I _knew_ there was something I meant to do during the break. I was just a bit busy getting married, enjoying my honeymoon, and discussing the future of the school with Headmaster Flitwick.

"Draco Malfoy, as I am _owner_ of Hogwarts, and as you are - apparently, according to you - on the School Board - you're fired! As a matter of fact, the _entire_ School Board of Governors is fired. Now, please step away, so I may escort my Lady onto the train."

"What?" he spluttered. "You can't do that! The positions on the School Board are hereditary! It's my birthright!"

"No, they're not," said Harry, with no small amount of exasperation. "The school charter specifically states the positions on the School Board of Governors are by appointment _only_, _and_ at the direction of the owners. As I am the owner, my direction is - the entire School Board of Governors is fired!

"Now - again - please step away from the door, so I may escort my Lady onboard!"

Malfoy and his cronies stepped away. But, Harry could see they were up to something. Was that anticipation in the blonde ferret's eyes, perhaps? They only backed up a few feet to allow room. They certainly didn't move away.

"Walking up to the door, Harry turned to Malfoy and said, "The carriage is blood warded so you _cannot_ enter. However, as both Lord Gryffindor and Lord Slytherin, I can."

Harry then reached over and grasped the door handle while Daphne surreptitiously, with her hand behind her leg, dropped her wand into her hand. With a twist, he opened the door and held it open for Daphne to board. Which she did - backwards.

A bare second after Harry opened the door, Malfoy's face twisted in fury. He whipped his wand out and raised it. "_Sectumsepra!_" the blonde boy bellowed. The spell fire hit a shield.

While no one was watching, as soon as Daphne saw Malfoy draw his wand, she was casting a shield before Harry. Malfoy's spell struck with a sickly purple gash of light.

Harry reached out, grabbed Malfoy's wand, and yanked it out of the boy's hand to the boy's dumbfounded shock. He slipped the wand into his pocket, took another half pace forward, and full backhanded the still gaping mouth before him. Malfoy went down.

A small crowd had gathered and were speaking in shocked voices. But, no one stepped forth to stop matters.

"Draco Lucius Malfoy!" barked Harry. "You have attempted to curse myself, _Lord_ Slytherin, the _Lord of your House_! You will be suitably dealt with during the Sorting Feast tonight. Now, board the train, find a vacant compartment, and stay _silent_ until I call upon you during the feast."

Malfoy, glared at Harry as he struggled to his feet. Once he'd regained his feet, he hesitated a moment before he stuck his hand out at Harry. "My wand!" he snarled.

"You are utterly incapable of being trusted with it," said Harry. "I will hold it on my person until I deal with you during the Sorting Feast. Now, get your arse on the train _in one of the student's carriages_."

The boy slunk away casting muttered aspersions at Harry as he did so. His little posse of bootlickers followed along.

With a sigh of disappointment, Harry entered the open door of the owners' carriage to be met with a snogging from Daphne.

"Thanks for the shield, Daph," he said, once he'd pulled away.

"I know Malfoy's _modus operandi_," she shrugged. "I knew _exactly_ when he was likely to attempt to curse you. It was always going to be a couple of seconds after you tried the door handle and you weren't shocked from it."

Harry pulled from his robes three new signs. He placed one on each of the three doors they'd be using. One at each of the two station-side doors; and a different one in the inter-carriage connection door. The one for the platform-side doors read:

**Lord Harry James Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor  
and HIS personal guests ONLY**

**DO NOT touch the door handle  
If you seek audience, KNOCK**

The one for the inter-carriage connection door read:

**Lord Harry James Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor  
and HIS personal guests ONLY**

**KNOCK**

**DO NOT touch the door handle  
Private Carriage  
Not for inspection by Prefects**

All three signs were surmounted by the triple Crests of Potter, Slytherin and Gryffindor.

"Do you think they'll work?" asked a _quite_ amused Lady Greengrass-Potter, watching Harry affix the last one.

"Not a chance," he chuckled. "However, I've not put them up to stop people _trying_; I've put them up so I can slap them down for it once we get to the castle."

"Ahh," said Daphne, understanding. "How very Slytherin of you."

Harry laughed.

One of the things Harry had the Deputy Headmistress include with the list of booklists each student was sent, was an appended note that read:

_ALL students are hereby informed the last carriage on the Hogwarts Express is a PRIVATE carriage. No student, including Prefects, is to attempt to enter the carriage without the express permission of the owner, Lord Harry James Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor._

_Just as with the engine, Prefects' duties do NOT include inspecting this private carriage._

Of course, the note was signed by Headmaster Flitwick.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Once they'd checked out the carriage to ensure all was as it should be, Harry and Daphne disembarked and awaited their friends on the platform.

The two watched, amused, as a couple of people, including parents, ignored the sign and attempted to open the door. Their yelps of startled pain had the newlyweds snickering behind their hands.

Some attempted to look in through the windows but magic prevented anyone from being able to look within. Which is probably why many tried the door.

That no one knocked was unsurprising. "_Merlin_, most witches and wizards are _daft_!" muttered Harry as yet another got zapped and yelped.

First of their friends to arrive was Blaise, alone. Then came Tracey, accompanied by her mother, Petra; quickly followed by Susan and Hannah arriving with Hannah's parents, Michael and Eliza. Hermione came through the barrier, not too much later; and she'd managed to find Luna on the way. Then, Neville arrived via side-along with his Gran.

Luna walked over to him and said, "Hello, Professor Potter. Married life seems to be treating you well."

Harry stared back at her in shock for a few moments before he snorted and hugged her. "Never change, dear Luna; never change."

With everyone now arrived, Harry led them to the carriage. People naturally stepped out of the way, and he opened the door.

Blaise immediately stepped through and waited while Harry and Neville fed through the trunks of their friends.

"Lord - Potter?" asked one of the adult witches, standing nearby and watching.

"Mmm?" asked Harry.

"This carriage is yours?" she asked.

"This carriage is the private carriage of the rightful heirs of the four founders," he explained, knowing others were listening in. "As I'm the rightful heir of _two_ of the founders - specifically Gryffindor and Slytherin - it could be assumed it's my carriage; yes."

"May we have a look?" she asked.

"Hmm," he mused. Turning to look at Blaise, he said, "Blaise, would you mind awfully going and opening the door at the other end for people to exit? I'll let them in through this end."

With a nod, Blaise grinned and said, "Sure!" And he marched off to the other end of the carriage, ready to let people out.

Indicating the door, Harry looked at the witch and said, "Ma'am?"

With a wide smile, she said, "Thank you, my Lord." and hopped aboard.

Daphne and the others also entered to ensure things weren't touched.

After the older witch boarded, a line quickly formed of those others standing around. And, one after the other, they filed onboard. Harry was keeping a close watch at the other door and was only allowing a dozen gawkers on at a time. They even had students coming along to have a look.

When the first witch through exited she came back over to Harry and said, "Thank you, my Lord. It is most impressive."

Harry smiled in response and gave a slight nod in acceptance.

After a few minutes, 'The Amazing Bouncing Ferret' and he cronies came back. "Potter!" he sneered. "You're letting people on board. I thought you said it was a private carriage."

"It is, Malfoy," said Harry. "However, people with better manners than you _asked_ to have a look. You should try asking, sometime, Malfoy. You'll be _amazed_ at the way people treat you when you do."

For a moment, Harry thought the boy was actually going to ask. Instead, he just sneered again and stormed off, minions in tow.

Chuckling to himself, Harry just watched him go.

"Arrogant little git, isn't he?" asked some wizard Harry hadn't met before, who was about to hop on board.

Harry shrugged and said, "He is a product of his upbringing. I doubt he'll ever change, now."

When the five minute whistle sounded, Harry said, "I'm afraid that's going to have to be it for this trip, folks. However, we'll try to do this again for the trip after Christmas."

He got back a little good natured whinging but everyone was otherwise happy.

Once the crowds disbursed, he boarded. About to close the door, he saw the Weasley brood come rushing in through the barrier. After a quick wave to their mother, Fred and George came running pell-mell down the platform, pushing a cart with their trunks on it.

Laughing at them, Harry held the door open as they tossed their trunks in and jumped inside, slamming the door shut behind them.

"I think the Weasley family is utterly incapable of arriving at the platform before the five minute whistle is sounded," he laughed.

"There's a five minute whistle?" asked one of the twins.

"No one told us that," said the other.

After letting the last gawker off at the other end of the carriage, Blaise came back and said, "I need to get changed. I have to rush up to the Prefects' carriage for the Prefects' meeting."

"Blaise, old chap," exclaimed one of the twins.

"What are you saying?"

"Are you, perchance,.."

"... a _Prefect_?" they exclaimed in mock-horror, together.

"I am," he grinned, going to his trunk to pull out his robes.

"Me too," said Susan.

"And me," said a proud Hermione.

"And me," blushed Neville.

"And me," said Tracey, finally.

"Sweet Merlin!" exclaimed one twin.

"We're surrounded..."

"... by a 'perfect' of Prefects!"

"That's a good one," said the other to his brother.

"Thank you," said the first, a bit smugly.

"And, what about you, Harry?"

"Are you a _Perfect_, too?"

"No," he replied. "I'm going to be _way_ too busy being the owner."

Blaise and Neville had collected their robes and went to change in the boys' change room, while Tracey, Hermione and Susan changed in the girls' change room.

Together, the five left to head to the front of the train just after it pulled out of the station.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	83. Wanderings

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty Three - Wanderings**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

This time, they weren't bothered by students, including Prefects, trying to come into the carriage. The only knocks on the door they got were from their friends returning from the Prefects' meeting at the other end of the train; and when they each returned from their patrols.

As she and Neville didn't have the first patrol, when Hermione returned, she told Harry, "We reminded the others that the owners' carriage was off-limits," she said. "The new Head Boy is a Slytherin, Miles Bletchley. He wasn't too happy to be reminded of that. However, he and the new Head Girl _did_ make sure the other Prefects were aware not to attempt to enter here."

However, they did hear one yelp. Harry assumed it was someone who didn't realise they were about to try to enter the last carriage.

Both he and Daphne made sure they were all aware of the password, 'courage under fire', to get into the Gryffindor owner's suite. And they were all invited to drop by at any time.

"Just don't enter the private bedrooms, if the door is closed, lest you receive first-hand knowledge of the beauty of the act of reproduction," he said.

To which Daphne squealed and blushed, before smacking his arm in embarrassment. The others laughed.

When Harry changed, he changed into his 'Adjunct Professor' uniform.

"Harry, what are you wearing?" asked Hermione, always eager for new information.

"It's a surprise, Hermione," he replied with a smile. "You'll find out when we sit for the Feast."

She pouted a little, at not being immediately informed; but, was apparently prepared to wait.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Walking in through the main doors at the castle and into the Great Hall, Harry was about to head to the Ravenclaw table after a chaste kiss to the cheek of his wife, when he remembered that wasn't where he was going to be sitting for the feast.

He turned away and walked up onto the dais and around the head table, taking seat at one of the 'lesser' professor's spots on the Slytherin end.

A few students saw him sit there and looked at him with curiosity written all over their faces.

It was only Malfoy who snarked about it. "Potter? What do you think you're doing?"

"It's Professor Potter, _Mister_ Malfoy," he flatly replied. "Now, go sit down before you become the first student of the year to lose both House points and earn a detention."

"That's the way," Professor Dinwaddy murmured to him. "Show your authority right from the get go."

He smiled back at the Potions Mistress. "He's the most troublesome one," he murmured back. "He constantly makes himself a perfect patsy for me, by opening his mouth before he engages his brain. I really should be grateful to him."

She actually smiled back and acknowledged his remark with a slight nod.

With the student body, less the First Years, finally sitting, Headmaster Flitwick stood on his chair and called for quiet. When he had it, he called to Professor McGonagall - who Harry had invited back to the Deputy Headmistress slot after Professor Sprout was adamant in not taking it - to bring in the new First Years.

She walked out the doors and returned a few minutes later leading the new 'ickle firsties'.

As always, there was lots of fearful looking around as they followed the Professor up the aisle.

With her usual efficiency, she had them arrayed before the head table and the Hat, sitting on its stool.

The Hat, recognising its moment, then broke into song. It was one of unity and respect across the Houses. Harry chuckled when it finished with:

_"For the first time history, when it comes to that,  
I'm Adjunct Professor Sorting Hat!"_

Harry heard Professor Jones, the new History of Magic Professor, from two seats down harrumph and mutter, "Smartarse piece of cloth!" and giggled as Professor Dinwaddy look affronted at the man. Thankfully, his remark, and Harry's subsequent giggling, was drowned out by the applause to anyone but the few close by.

The sorting started with Euan Abercrombie heading for Gryffindor, and continued apace with the last, Rose Zeller, heading for Hufflepuff.

With the sorting finished, Professor McGonagall moved the stool to the side of the room, but placed Hat on the end of the table opposite Harry. Clearly, this was to show Hat as now being a recognised member of staff. Subtle, but effective.

Headmaster Flitwick then rose to address the student body.

"For those new to Hogwarts; welcome. For those returning; welcome back. First, I shall cover some major changes that have occurred since you were here last."

Professor Flitwick covered the new positions of Head of Houses being unique positions. Then introduced the four ladies who now held those positions. Their titles would be 'Madam'. And he next publicly welcomed back Professor McGonagall to the position of Deputy Headmistress.

Then he told the students Professor Binns had finally moved on to his 'next great adventure' - which made the entire student population happy, except for those who grieved the loss of their 'nap time' - and introduced Professor Jones to the position of Professor of History.

He then said Professor Duncan, as DADA Professor, had chosen to remain, after all; and that a curse that affected the position had been found and removed. Harry had earlier learned the curse actually _did_ exist, and that it was tied to the office of the DADA Professor and anchored to Riddle's School Award. The goblins simply removed the award and destroyed it; thus, removing the curse.

Next he moved on to Harry.

"In days, many years past, now," he began. "We once had Adjunct Professors serving here. An adjunct professor is a professor who works part-time in that role. But, still retains all the authority of a full time professor. That position has been reactivated.

"Our first adjunct professor in many a year, is our very own Mister Potter. Adjunct Professor Potter will be assisting Professor Jones in Defence Against the Dark Arts, and - occasionally - Professor Wiblin in Charms."

That had a fair few of the students chatting among themselves. Harry looked over and saw Hermione staring back at him apparently gobsmacked, while Neville was grinning his head off.

Looking at the Slytherin table he saw Malfoy staring at him, flushed with a look of utter loathing. He chose to ignore it, for the time being. Daphne and Tracey were also grinning.

Letting the students settle again, the Headmaster then said, "And, finally - though he's already let the cat out of the bag - I introduce Adjunct Professor Sorting Hat. Professor Hat will be assisting Professor Jones in imparting to you the _true_ history of the school and much of magical Britain - instead of the nonsense you've read in some texts. He, after all, has lived through it since the time of the founders.

"That's staffing. Now, I have news concerning equipment within the school..."

He told them of the new brooms, the much expanded library, the new telescopes (though, did not mention they were of muggle manufacture), the wider selection of plants within the greenhouses, and the changes to some of the curriculum - especially, in muggle studies.

"Through the very generous donation of the owners of the school, Lord and Lady Potter, the school currently finds itself flush with extra Galleons. If you have an idea where we can spend some of that gold, please advise your new Heads of House. They will bring it to the senior staff; where it will be given well-reasoned consideration.

"To give you time to absorb all that new and wonderful information, I now call on our industrious elves to serve our feast."

He gave a double clap of his hands and the tables filled with food as he sat down again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As he ate, Harry engaged in polite and jovial conversation with those staff members sitting close by. And, also kept shifting his eyes back towards the students. He finally caught the eye of Susan and Hannah, and they both grinned at him.

When he turned to look at Luna, she seemed to realise he was looking at her. She turned to him and waved with a big smile.

Both Professors Dinwaddy and Jones wanted to know why he was an Adjunct Professor while still a student, so explained the arrangement he had with Professor Duncan and Headmaster Flitwick concerning the role. He also explained how he had temporarily filled the role as unofficial Adjunct Professor of Charms to teach the senior years the Patronus Charm.

When the meal was finally cleared away, Professor Flitwick once more stood to address the students.

"As always, the Forbidden Forest is forbidden - _unless_ you are accompanied by a member of staff. The list of banned items, as always, is available to all from Caretaker Filch; and is affixed to his office door.

"This year, it is my sad duty to officially inform you of the passing of Albus Dumbledore. For some, he shall be missed."

The Headmaster's words were quite telling. He wasn't mentioned as a previous headmaster or professor, he didn't say he was sad but said it was his sad duty, and he said the man would be missed 'by some'.

"Now, I call on the owner of our school - who is also adjunct Professor Potter - Lord Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor, to say a few words."

'That's twice he's mentioned me as the owner,' thought Harry, as he rose to move out to the front. Professor Flitwick returned to sitting in his chair.

"Good evening," said Harry. Mimicking Professor Snape's style, he kept his voice quiet but projected. He used his magic to project his voice, just a little. It kept everyone quiet to listen. "For those who missed the announcement at the Leaving Feast, last year - or failed to read the news in the Daily Prophet, soon afterwards - I am Lord Harry James Potter-Slytherin-Gryffindor. It is why I wear the crests of those two Houses upon my robes, and why they are surrounded by a gold border." He indicated them. I am also a student in Ravenclaw House." He indicated that on his robes.

"You may address me as _Lord_ Potter for matters relating to the school administration, _Professor_ Potter when I'm teaching, or _Mister_ Potter when I'm sitting in a class being taught. If you make a mistake, don't worry about it, it confuses me at times, too. For my friends - by invitation - you may address me as Harry. You may _not_ address me in any other fashion." He dropped his voice an octave and firmly said, "That includes just Potter, scarhead, or other insulting terms."

Lifting his pitch back up, he continued, "I do not like bullies. Most of you are already well aware of that fact. I, _especially_, do not like bullies who pick on those younger than them. Or those who bully, by gathering unto themselves, minions or lickspittles - to bully by superior numbers. I think them cowards, all.

"As of right now, the terms 'mudblood' - and any derivative of that foul word - and 'blood traitor' are hereby _banned_ for anywhere on the school property - including aboard the Hogwarts Express - unless they are used by someone like Professor Jones to demonstrate the stupidity of pureblood supremacy.

"I _am_ Lord Gryffindor; and, I _am_ Lord Slytherin. As such, I _own_ this rock pile known as the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. That means - within these grounds; and upon the Hogwarts Express - if I will it, so will it be. As per the old ways, I am the Lord of the Manor. If you do not like that - if you cannot _accept_ that..." he pointed at the doors back out to the Entrance Hall, "... there's the door - _leave_!

"I am also married. I now introduce my lovely wife, Lady Daphne Ophelia Greengrass-Potter." Daphne rose in place. "Though she has chosen not to use the names Gryffindor or Slytherin in her title, she is - nevertheless - also Lady Slytherin, and Lady Gryffindor. You will accord her the same respect as I demand, lest you experience my ire." He then bowed to Daphne and said, "Thank you, my Lady." Daphne gave a slight curtsey and retook her seat.

"_As_ we are married; and, _as_ we are Lord and Lady Gryffindor and Slytherin; we have taken up residence in the Gryffindor and Slytherin owners' suites. You will find the entrance to them on the third floor near the entrance to the infirmary, behind the portrait of the gryffin. If you need to see us, and we're in our private apartments, you'll find a flat mirror next to the portrait. Just announce yourself to that and you will be attended.

"We are both students commencing our OWL year. As such, we are already going to be quite busy. Add to that our need to attend matters relating to the administration of the school, the Wizengamot, and our _five_ Houses, we're going to be extremely busy. If you have a complaint on something related to the school, you'd best make it to one of the staff in the first instance; else, you'll be given short shrift.

"That aside, we're still approachable. If you see us out and about - by all means - approach us if you wish. We'd hate to be thought - snotty - or, snooty. We do not put on the la-di-dah airs of those who feel - insecure - in their place within our society. We want you to be happy here; and to feel secure. After all; while this is Daphne's and my home; it's your home, too, for eight months of the year.

"Now, if Headmaster Flitwick has nothing else to inform you..." he looked at the Headmaster, who smiled and shook his head in response, before he turned back,"... then it's nigh time you were all abed. Don't forget to be down early for breakfast so your Heads of House can hand you your class schedules. Classes will start immediately after breakfast.

"Prefects, please escort our new First Years to their dormitories. To you all, good night; and I wish you sweet dreams. Off, you trot!"

As the student body rose as one and began to chat among themselves, and the Prefects corralled the First Years for their Houses, Harry turned back to the staff. "I didn't over do it, did I?" he grinned.

Headmaster Flitwick chuckled and shook his head as Professor McGonagall smiled back. "No," said the little Headmaster. "You had them - enraptured."

Harry shrugged and said, "Believe it or not, that - style - I used, was something I learned from Professor Snape's manner of speaking to an audience. He may have been a dreadful teacher, but he _sure_ knew how to capture the attention of an audience."

"That, he did," sighed Professor McGonagall. "That, he did."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Daphne and Tracey waited for him. Then, together, they made their way to the owners' suites.

"How do you ladies think I did with that little speech?" he asked.

"You did very well, Harry," said Daphne.

"You held everyone's attention right though," said Tracey. "I don't know if that's because you spoke clearly but softly, or whether they were in awe of the one who killed Voldemort, or it was because you were radiating power. It worked."

As Harry approached, the portrait slid aside, and they climbed the half flight to enter the Gryffindor portion of the joined suites.

Both Frosty and Maisey popped in and welcomed them.

After they both greeted their suites' elves, Daphne grabbed Tracey's hand and turned to Harry, "You go make sure everything's sorted where we want it. I'm taking Tracey down to see her room and make sure her stuff's in there."

Harry held up both hands in mock surrender and said, "Yes, my Lady."

"Behave, you!" she growled as Tracey giggled, and was dragged down the joining passage to the Slytherin section.

Harry smiled after them before climbing the half flight to their bedroom.

Inside, he quickly checked the walk-in robes and the bathroom. Everything was set up as they liked. He suspected Petey and Ninny's elvish hands in that. Their nightclothes were laid out on their turned down bed.

With a nod of satisfaction, Harry headed back downstairs to check out the rest of the place and to meet up with Daphne and Tracey. He met them in the living room in the Slytherin area.

"You like?" he asked Tracey.

"I _love!_" she gushed, giving him a hug.

"Your stuff in your room?" he asked.

Pulling back, and with tears in her eyes, she nodded.

"Good," he said. "Now, you know how to call on the two elves that take care of us, in here. You're welcome to call on them if you need anything."

"And what if I - umm - if I would like to have a guest?" she blushed and dropped her eyes.

"This is your home away from home, Tracey," he replied. "If you have guests, I won't mind."

"No," she said. "I mean - umm - a..."

Interrupting, Daphne smirked and said, "She means if she wants to have a boyfriend spend the night - in her room - with her."

Not clueless, but wanting to tweak his Slytherin friend, he said, "Oh! You mean, if you want to bring some poor, unsuspecting male in here, and screw his brains out?"

"_Gahh!_" she exclaimed turning bright red.

"That is, of course, unless you've decided to beat for the other team, and you want to bring a _female_ in here..."

"Harry!" exclaimed Daphne; also blushing a little.

"Sure!" he simply said. "You're old enough to make that sort of decision on your own. I'm not your father or Head of House, so it's none of _my_ concern if you want to make some bloke's dream come true and fuck him senseless."

"_Harry!_" squealed Daphne, again.

Tracey just blushed even deeper and appeared unable to voice a response.

"Okay!" he said. "I'll be good!"

Looking at Tracey, he calmly said, "If you want to entertain a friend overnight, you have my permission to bring them here. Is that better?"

Slowly calming down again, she eventually nodded her head and looked him in the eye. "Thank you," she quietly said.

"No problem," he said. "Just make sure you have suitable Silencing Charms in place. I don't want to hear you _howling_ out my name during any of your long bouts of ecstasy. I mean - that is, of course, if he's good enough..."

She gaped back at him in dawning horror before another flush darkened her skin.

"_HARRY!_" Daphne squealed again at a higher volume.

Next thing he knew, Stinging Hexes were being cast in his direction. With a couple of yelps of pain, he bolted back upstairs to the master bedroom; trying not to laugh between getting shot.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Next morning, Harry was dressed in his student robes and escorting both girls down to breakfast in the Great Hall. Though, they could have had breakfast in the owners' suites, Harry and Daphne both needed to show they were just as much students as owners.

They were the first of their friends to arrive and sat in the middle of the Ravenclaw table to await them. They'd already started on their breakfasts as they others started turning up.

Neville, ever the gentleman, assisted Hermione into her seat opposite. Sitting himself, he casually asked, "How'd you sleep?"

"Sleep?" asked Harry, before he looked like he knew what Neville was getting at. "Oh, right! That's the _other_ thing you do in a bed, right?"

Neville looked back, stunned into immobility, as Hermione exclaimed, "_Harry!_" while Daphne just reached across and smacked him up the back of his head.

"Don't mind him," she blandly said to them both. "He's been like this since last night. I think he's trying to be - you know - _funny_."

Neville finally got his brain back into gear and snorted in amusement; and continued to load his plate with eggs and bacon.

Turning back to Harry she growled, "You - behave - or you're sleeping on the couch, tonight."

"Hey; that's not fair!" he pouted. "We don't even _have_ a couch. We have armchairs and loveseats; not couches."

"I'm sure Frosty can find one, somewhere," she sniffed.

Hermione tittered at their byplay.

"And you, Lady Hermione," said Harry, wanting to get off the subject of couches very quickly. "How was your time with the Bulgarian - Or, should I say, the 'bulge'-arian."

"_Victor_ - was the perfect gentleman," she huffed.

"In other words," he retorted. "You didn't get _lucky_."

Hermione harrumphed and threw a breakfast pastry at him, while Neville tried to hide his snickering.

Dropping into place next to Tracey, Blaise asked, "Hey folks. What're we talking about?"

"Whether or not Hermione got lucky with Krum," Neville replied with a straight face.

Hermione's head snapped around to look at the boy, while also looking like she'd just been stabbed in the back. Harry just burst out laughing, which earned him another smack in the back of the head. And Blaise looked astonished at the answer.

'Pa-_pardon_?" he stuttered.

"Harry's being crude and it looks like he's _infected_ Neville with the same stupidity," replied Tracey, glaring at Neville.

Neville at least had the decency to look abashed. Not Harry, though.

After that, with the arrival of Susan and Hannah, Harry decided to behave himself. Luna was the last to arrive. He already knew that, if he tried to go toe-to-toe with being the most crude with Luna, he'd lose.

It's not that Luna was deliberately being crude, either. She just didn't have a bar to cross for what was considered 'decent' discussion topics, and not. If Harry wanted to talk about a woman's hygiene issues, for instance, Luna would happily chat away about them. But, if Harry used an impolite term, Luna would frown at him and tell him off for being rude.

To try and embarrass her, one time, he asked her about her knowledge and experience of blow jobs. She calmly discussed what she knew the term to mean, wondered about how - for her part - she'd overcome the gag reflex, wanted to know the truth about actual lengths expected in erect penises of boys her own age, and about how a boy would perform such a feat on a girl. She'd even asked Harry - if he wouldn't mind, of course - taking his penis out of his robes and getting it erect for her. She even offered to assist him in getting it erect, so she could see one for herself. A request Harry politely refused while madly blushing.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

It took a while, but the denizens of the school finally came to accept that the heir to two of the founders was actually a student with them. And, one in the midst of his OWL year.

One of the first things Harry felt he had to do was tell new Ravenclaw Quidditch Captain, Roger Davies, he was withdrawing from the Quidditch team. The boy looked like someone had killed his familiar, the way he acted.

"But, _why_?" he practically cried. "I only get one year as Captain, and this is it. You _can't_ quit on me!"

"Rog, I have to!" Harry replied with an exasperated sigh. "I'm in my OWL year, I have four Ancient Houses to look after, I have Wizengamot issues to deal with, I have to deal with admin issues with the school, I'm recently married, and - to top it all off - I'm an Adjunct Professor and am required to teach classes! I just _can't_ spend time playing _Quidditch_!

"On top of that," he quickly said before the boy could interrupt. "I've also had to give up my favourite activity, running the etiquette club with my wife. Thankfully, my friend, Neville Longbottom, has stepped forward to take my place. But that, among all the things I've had to give up, hurts me the most. And, if there was one activity I'd take back if I could, it would be that; not Quidditch!"

The boy left, most upset. But, Harry eventually promised to help him find a replacement. He just couldn't stay on as seeker.

Harry was also visited by a small delegation of Slytherins who were upset at what they perceived as unjust treatment by the Potions Professor, Potions Mistress Dinwaddy. Harry's first question to them was, "Have you taken this to your Head of House?"

"But, _you're_ our Head of House," one spluttered.

"No, I consider myself the _Lord_ of your House. Your _Head_ of House, for the purposes of looking after the students within that House, is Madam Winthorpe. It's _her_ job to hear these complaints, as its part of what she's specifically paid to do. If she determines there's any validity to your complaint, she takes it to the Headmaster in the first instance, not me.

"Only when the Headmaster deems it an issue he is unable to deal with, or you're unhappy with his determination, should you even _think_ about bringing it to me. Do you understand?"

After a little grumbling, their spokesperson said, "Yes, Lord Slytherin. Thank you."

"You're welcome," he replied. "Just - make sure of the validity, and logical reasoning, of your complaint before you take it to Madam Winthorpe."

Besides that one instance, the Slytherins, for the most part, got over their initial anger and curiosity and settled down. However, they were quite shocked when, one day, out of the blue, Harry simply walked into their common room.

One of the female Sixth Years, looked oddly at him and asked, "Errr - how did you get in here, my Lord?"

Harry smirked and said, "Really, Miss Baddock. Have you forgotten, already, that I'm Lord Slytherin? There is nowhere in the castle I cannot go if I wish to so go there. And that's especially apt for this common room."

"How did you know the password?" she asked.

"I don't need one," he replied. "Pass worded doors automatically open for me as I approach."

"_All_ of them?" she asked in surprise.

"_All_ of them," he smiled. "This is my home, Miss Baddock. Did you _really_ think I'd be unable to get into anywhere within my own home?"

"Errr - no," she replied, with a slight blush. "I guess - I just hadn't thought of it like that."

He gave a slight nod and said, "That's because you're only thinking of Hogwarts as a school. Instead, try to think of it as someone's home that _hosts_ a school. And that someone is me. Then, shall you be on the right track."

She nodded back before she asked, "And what brings you to our common room, Lord Slytherin?"

With a nod and smile at her words, he said, "Now you're getting it. Actually, I'm just here because I was out for a walk and became curious. After all, you're in my House - well, one of my Houses - and I felt I should at least pay a visit. If only so people don't think I'm being rude and ignoring them, you understand."

She smiled back with a very small bob that could - if one was to stretch the definition - be considered a curtsey. "Then, welcome," she said.

He was just smirking back when Malfoy entered.

"What are you doing here, Potter?"

Quick as a flash, Harry had his wand out and, with a quick cast, had the Blonde Git slammed up against and pinned to a wall.

"Mister Malfoy," Harry glared at him, with his magic amped up and swirling about. "Obviously, my little talk at the Opening Feast either didn't make it through the sludge in your ears to your brain, or it promptly leaked back out again.

"I am Lord Slytherin, you ignorant little _shit_," he sneered. "Firstly, fifty points from Slytherin for your disrespect of a Professor. Secondly, two weeks detention at the hands of our caretaker, Mister Filch. Thirdly, your first warning of only two allowed you before I expel you from this castle.

"Take heed, Mister Malfoy," Harry, almost leisurely, strode up to him. "I took out the Dork Lard who called himself Voldemort, while surrounded by sixteen of his inner circle masked morons. One of which was your father; and, another, your godfather. An insignificant little gnat, like you, I normally cannot even be bothered acknowledging. However, you are more and more popping into my thoughts. And they're not nice ones.

"If you cannot - if you are unable - to grasp that simple fact - I will not hesitate to smack you silly in public to such a degree, the name Malfoy will be used as a point of derision from that point forth. You'll have to take your family to the mainland to escape it all.

"What do you think of these examples? 'Ha, look at that idiot; he's such a _Malfoy_' or 'Merlin, I got that so wrong I thought a _Malfoy_ must've snuck into my bloodline' or 'He was so stupid he made a _Malfoy_ look smart'. All good examples, don't you think?"

Still pinned to the wall, Malfoy just glared back; furious.

"Don't make me expend the energy to deal with you, Mister Malfoy. Your precious 'Dork Lard' only took me three spells to kill. You're such a mediocre wizard, I doubt I'd need more than one, for you."

With that, Harry spun about and stormed from the room. As he passed out of the hidden entrance, Malfoy was released from the Sticking Charm and slid down the wall to land in an ungraceful heap at the bottom of it.

The Head Boy, Miles Bletchley, from where he was standing near the door leading to the boys' dorm rooms, sneered at the git and said, "Malfoy, you're _such_ a Malfoy."

A couple of the younger years - who'd had to put up with the git prancing about and ordering others around, as if he was the Prince of Slytherin - openly snickered.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

On his next wanderings, he decided to give the Gryffindor rooms a quick visit.

As he walked up to the portrait of the one the Gryff's called the Fat Lady, he said, "Hello, Agatha."

"My Lord," she said with a curtsey.

"Open up for me, please," he said.

"Of course, my Lord," she said with another curtsey as the portrait swung open.

He stepped up and through the round portrait hole and into the common room. Looking around - ignoring those within, for the moment - he thought, 'How in Merlin's name are people supposed to think in here? Red and gold are not colours conducive to a peaceful environment.'

One of the Lions in the room, Katie Bell, rose with a cheeky grin, curtseyed and said, "My Lord Gryffindor; you honour us."

Hurry burst out laughing and with a bit of a wave off gesture said, "Oh, gee whizz! Gosh darn and all."

She grinned back and came up to give him a hug. "How're you doing, Harry?" she asked.

"Good, actually," he said, releasing her to step back to arms length. "How goes it with you?"

"Thankful I'm past my OWLS and have until next year before undertaking my NEWTS," she replied. "What brings you here?"

"Well," he began. "I was having a bit of an idea. You see, red and gold aren't exactly good colours for a relaxing environment. So, I was thinking of mixing them together and making it a bit of a pastel. How does it sound to you if I set up this area with an _orange_ décor? Perhaps - burnt umber?"

Looking back at him, a bit horrified, she exclaimed, "_No!_"

"I think it's a _great_ idea!" said Ron Weasley, from where he was sitting playing chess with Seamus Finnigan. "It'll be just like the Chudley Cannons!"

"_No!_" she exclaimed, again, after glaring at the red-headed boy. "Just - _No!_"

Harry couldn't help himself. He started giggling before letting it out in a full-throated laugh.

Stepping forward and hugging the girl again, he said, "Never fear, Katie dear. I'm kidding!"

With a cry of "_Harry!_" coming from the stairs that led to the girls' dorms, Harry was grapple-hugged by the brunette-haired missile of Astoria, who'd charged him. "What brings _you_ here?" she asked as she stepped back again.

Over the past few years, Astoria had changed from the knobbly-kneed, gawky nine year old he first met; into a svelte, willowy young woman that turned heads wherever she went.

"Hey!" he said mock-hurt. "I can't come and visit my favourite little sister?"

"You've never come before," she said, not in the least affected by his shenanigans. "Why are you _really_ here?"

"True," he sighed and stood up straighter. "I'm here because I was curious. It's been a while since I was in here last, and wanted to see it again. Besides, as Lord Gryffindor, I really should visit more often."

"Yes - you should," she said with a cocked eyebrow and little moue. "I _am_ supposed to be your favourite little sister, after all."

Harry grinned and stepped over to her, giving her a hug. "And don't you forget that," he said. Pulling away just slightly, he asked, "Still dating Colin?"

She blushed and pulled back, before looking down and nodding.

"Is he - _behaving_ - himself?" he asked.

With a sly smile she blushed even deeper before nodding again.

"Good," he simply stated. "I'd hate to have to give the boy the shovel talk."

Katie asked, "The '_what_' talk?"

"The shovel talk," Harry said, turning to her.

When he saw the look of confusion on her face he whisked out a quill from an inner pocket of his robes and transfigured it into a full-sized shovel.

"This is how the 'shovel talk' goes," he said, before looking stern at his favourite Gryffindor chaser. "Colin. _This_ is a shovel. Do you know what a shovel is used for?"

Playing along, Katie grinned before she said, "Digging holes, my Lord?"

Sternly nodding, he said, "But, not just _digging_ holes, Colin. It's used for burying _bodies_. Do you understand?"

With a little awe, Katie silently nodded.

"Good," he said. "Because - if you make my little sister unhappy - I'll come looking for you. And, when I do, I shall be carrying a _shovel_..." and he gave it a little wave, "... Are we clear?"

After a couple heart beats, Astoria screeched, "You wouldn't _dare_!" While Katie blinked for a moment before bursting out with laughter.

Harry turned and grinned at Astoria. "Hey; I've been practicing that little talk for _ages_ now. You wouldn't want it to go to waste, now; would you?"

She glared at him and snapped, "I'm going to _marry_ that boy, Potter. And you better not..."

They heard a bit of a boyish yelp from the stairs, interrupting her berating Harry. Turning, they saw Colin standing at the foot of the stairs to the boys' dorm.

"Y-you _are_?" he squeaked, looking a little pale and frightened.

When Tori looked almost horrified at Colin, wondering what to say, Harry grinned before waving the shovel at him; and said, "_Shovel_, Col..." before the boy passed out in a dead faint; "... in!"

Tori whirled back on Harry with a look of fury on her face. "This is _your_ fault, Potter!" And she snapped her wand into her hand.

Harry had a bare moment to say, "Uh-oh!" before he dropped the shovel, turned and bolted for the portrait hole; spells whizzed by him as he ran. At least one Stinging Hex nailed him right on the left bum cheek as he ran, making him yelp in pain.

Katie and a few others broke out into laughter as he practically dived through the hole and made his escape.

Bolting along the sixth floor corridor he didn't look back until he reached the stairs of the grand staircase. Turning back, he noticed she wasn't chasing him, so slowed down to a jaunty stroll and grinned to himself.

As he made his way down to the owners' suites, he whistled a bit of tune. As he passed some of the students, they gave him funny looks. Some even quietly snickered after they passed.

'No appreciation for whistling talents," he thought.

Entering the Gryffindor owners' stairs, he hurried up them and into their study room. The others, except for Tracey and Blaise, were there, working on assignments.

They turned to look and, as soon as they saw him, gawked back.

Noticing the looks, he frowned back and asked, "What? Is my tie crooked or something?"

Susan grinned and said, "Nope. Your hair's streaked red and gold."

"It looks like you annoyed a Gryffindor," Neville snickered. "I-if I had to guess..." he wheezed, "... it would be Astoria!" Then he broke out into howling laughter. Hermione was snickering away while Luna and the 'Puffs were grinning at him.

Harry frowned and walked into the half-bathroom off the room and checked himself out in the mirror. Sure enough, his hair was, indeed, streaked red and gold. And was even twinkling.

And, worst yet, he couldn't dispel the Charm. Daphne had to do it when she finally saw him. But, not until she laughed herself almost silly. He didn't dare tell her about the shovel talk, though. He knew she'd back her sister.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	84. Goodbye Draco

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty Four - Goodbye Draco**

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The first time Harry addressed a DADA class, it was for the new First Years in Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. Professor Duncan gave him free reign as to what he taught them. And he took the instruction to heart.

"Body - mind - spirit - magic. Four aspects of each of you that make the whole - _you_," he said. "For you to reach your peak in _any_ of those areas, you need to reach your peak in _all_ those areas. They are inherently and integrally linked. If you are weak in one, you will be weak in others. And, it's not evenly spaced.

"The body is the physical you. Arms - legs - torso - head. For you to reach your peak in this area you need to physically exercise. You need to exert yourself and build yourself up. The physically fitter you are, the longer you can cast. The physically fitter you are, the longer you can remain on your feet in battle.

"The mind is your thought processes; and your memories. Studying is the way of exercising the mind. Not surprisingly, the more you study, the more easily the information you study comes to your mind. The more easily you will be able to recall the information from your memories. This helps you to be able to recall wand movement, incantation, the feel of your magic flowing in a specific way, and be able to plan what you're going to do and when in advance.

"The spirit is the inner you. It drives emotion. It defines your personality. This, too, can be exercised. One method is meditation. Another, for those who believe in a higher power, is prayer. This is also your determination to win, your determination to push through pain, your desire to win.

"Finally - magic. One of your text books is '_Magical Theory_' by Adalbert Waffling. In there, Mister Waffling tells us 'magic is like a muscle, it needs exercising'. Practicing spell work provides that exercise. It builds magical stamina, control, and power.

"Many who enjoy physical exercise speak of how, when they're cooling off from that exercise, find they have great clarity of thought. The act of physical exercise can assist them in clearing their minds, to allow their thought processes to solve problems more easily than they could before exercising. Hold that thought.

"Exercising the spirit also does that. That is because, in exercising the spirit, you remove from your mind that which hinders thought. Mediation is the act of allowing yourself to release emotion. In a true mediative state, there is no emotion. When you set the emotion aside, your mind is freer to absorb and process information. And, it aids in memory retention.

"However, the second side of spirit is the emotion. The way you behave. It is what gives you your character. So, we never set aside the emotion, permanently. We do, however, when we need to. Such as when we're in a battle for our very lives.

"If you are healthy in body, mind and spirit - and if you have exercised your magic - you will be the best you can be at that time. You will be a force to be reckoned with.

"Now, the most powerful tool at your disposal in defending yourself against the dark arts isn't your spell repertoire, it isn't your drive and determination, it isn't your physical fitness. It's your brain and how you use it."

"In this class, much of what you need to learn, is based on how you _think_. What is the best response when someone casts a spell at you? It depends on what was cast at you. When you see someone casting at you, you have mere moments to think of what you have to do to not be hit by the cast. The quicker you can think, the longer you live.

"For example; you are faced by a dark wizard who stands twenty feet from you. He casts a purple spell at you. What do you do? Anyone?" he asked the whole class.

A Gryffindor raised his hand.

"Yes?" asked Harry.

"You put up a shield?" the young boy asked.

"Do you know how to cast a shield?" asked Harry.

"Well, no," answered the boy.

"Then you are dead," said Harry. "Next?"

A Ravenclaw, this time, said, "You dive out of the way."

With a nod, Harry said, "You've dived out of the way and avoid the spell. You live a little longer. Now you're lying on the ground. He casts another spell at you. This one is orange. What do you do?"

"Errr, I dive out of the way of that one, too," he said, a little too confidently.

"How?" asked Harry. "You're lying on the ground. How do you then dive out of the way? Nope. You're dead, too; though, you did live about three seconds longer than our brave Gryffindor over here."

"Keep trying," said Harry. "Next?"

Another Ravenclaw - a girl, this time, "If he's twenty feet away, you should just be able to step to the side."

Harry smiled, and said, "You simply step aside. It uses nowhere near the physical energy to do, it leaves you able to cast back - even _as_ you're stepping aside, and it leaves you the ability to dodge his next curse. Five points to Ravenclaw. However, he's just going to keep casting until he finally tags you and kills you. How do you live through it?"

"You run away," said a Gryffindor.

Harry smiled again and said, "Yes. Five points to Gryffindor. But, if you just run away, our dastardly dark wizard is just going to shoot you in the back. Dark wizards don't play fair.

"_Think_, people," he said. "Use what's around you, use the terrain, dodge - even when running away. If you're fit, you should be able to dodge and jump from point to point while constantly heading in a direction away from the threat. You can also use big enough objects as physical shields, such as trees, buildings, et cetera.

"When you do that - when your moves appear erratic - his chances of hitting you with a cast are _greatly_ diminished.

"When facing a dark wizard - unless you are an auror, a hit wizard or a specialist Unspeakable - your goal is _not_ to defeat the threat, it's to _live_ through it. Quite often, that means running away. For that, you need to be physically fit, and still retain the wits to do it safely and not stupidly.

"Any questions?" he asked by way of wrapping up.

"But, isn't that the cowards way out?" asked a Gryffindor.

"No, it's not," replied Harry. "You understood you were in a situation you knew you couldn't win. Or, your chances of winning were very slim. So, you retired from the battle. That allows you opportunity to train for the next battle. If you're dead; that's it. He wins; you lose.

"If you run away and live, you give yourself the opportunity to defeat him, next time - or, the time after that - or, even the time after that. Sometimes, the bravest thing to do is run away. History is littered with the corpses of idiots who were too afraid to run when they should have. Understand?"

"But what about when you faced Riddle? You didn't run away then. And he had all those death eaters with him," said one of the Gryffindors.

Harry smiled and said, "Believe me. If I could have run away; I would have. I'd have been out of there like a bunny rabbit with it's little white tail afire!"

That earned him a few chuckles as people visualised it.

"But, I couldn't run. Riddle hit me with the Cruciatus Curse while I was still tied to his father's headstone. The effect left after that curse is removed leaves all your muscles twitching and feeling as if they're on fire. So, I'd been robbed of much of my physical strength.

"However, I still would have run, if given the opportunity. I was then released of my bindings and immediately looked for a way to run away. However, the death eaters had closed ranks around us.

"Then, I was hit with the Cruciatus Curse for the second time. By the time it was released I could barely stand. And that's when both mind and spirit come into play.

"I was still looking for a way to escape - to run away - but I was also aware, by that time, my rescuers had arrived and were waiting for the opportunity to help me. I then knew my best option to get out of the situation I was in _alive_ - not win - was to given them the chance to rescue me.

"To do that, I needed to distract Riddle and his masked morons from what was going on around them _outside_ of their circle. In other words, I needed them to focus on me; I was _thinking it through_. My _physical_ aspect had been harmed; but, not my mind, spirit or magical aspects. I thought about what I needed to do, my mind and spirit helped with that. And then I unleashed with my _magic_.

"What happened after that, I'm not permitted to tell you. Sorry."

At the end of the class, Harry asked Duncan, "What did you think?"

The man snorted and replied, "The lesson it is sometimes braver to run, than stay, needs to be taught at the Academy. I dare say it would save many lives."

Harry nodded.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

At the October general Wizengamot session, after many hours of parchmentwork and negotiations, the Ancient House of Gaunt was finally accorded Noble status; and lifted it to become the Noble and Ancient House of Gaunt. This gave Harry his forth seat in his own right. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin were reactivated while he was away on his honeymoon, and he was accepted into those seats in the September general session.

As he'd discussed with them earlier about Heir Presumptives, he appointed Amelia as proxy for Gaunt, Sirius as proxy for Slytherin - much to his godfather's displeasure, and added the Gryffindor proxy to the proxy for Potter he gave Gran. Cygnus was sitting as proxy for Dagworth-Granger for Hermione. Spreading them out that way, when he did want to sit a session, he would sit Potter and have the others evenly spread between Amelia, Sirius and Gran. This, at least, saved much of the grumblings coming from the other members.

When he received his quarterly (extended) account statements from Gringotts, he was shocked to see that Bloodfang had worked what Harry considered miracles. The wily old goblin had taken Harry's instruction for the Gaunt, Slytherin and Gryffindor accounts of 'go make me money, just don't get me involved in illegal stuff' to heart.

As the goblin knew in advance of the ultimate defeat of Riddle, he speculated out the whazoo in the Galleon. Then, when the news broke, the value against the other world's currencies climbed significantly for the Galleon. He made a market killing. Since then, he'd invested heavily in the worldwide muggle markets. Theses were broken across low, medium and high risk investments; with fifty percent, thirty five percent and fifteen percent, respectively. Across the various portfolios, Harry now owned shares in oil, technology, mining and weapons companies among others.

'Who, or what, the bloody hell is Stark Industries?' he thought, going through the papers. 'Hmm, medium risk. Guess I'll keep it, for now.'

'Okay,' he thought, getting to the progress reports for the debts being called in. 'Hmm. Avery is now probably bankrupt. I wonder why he hasn't announced that, yet. Bagman; _definitely_ bankrupt - and wanted by the goblins for unpaid gambling debts. Dead man, walking! Carrow; probably bankrupted. Crabbe; paid off with loss of assets. Crouch; paid off with loss of assets. Dolohov; bankrupted. Gibbon; paid off. Goyle; paid off. Jugson; paid off with loss of assets. Lestrange; paid off. MacNair; bankrupted. Malfoy; paid off. Mulciber; probably bankrupted. Nott; bankrupted - no wonder the little shit tried to AK me. Ogden; paid off. Parkinson; paid off with loss of assets. Prince; paid off with loss of assets. Rosier; bankrupted. Selwynn; paid off with loss of assets. Snape; paid off with loss of assets. Travers; probably bankrupted. Umbridge; bankrupted. Wilkes; paid off. Yaxley; probably bankrupted.

"Woah!" he muttered, before he thought, 'Look at all that gold that came flooding in!'

Thinking about it further, he thought, 'Hmm. A list of what happened to each of those Houses to Uncle Algie, methinks. That should make his day.'

Sitting back and giving it more thought, he finally pulled a blank sheet of parchment forth, pulled out his latest fountain pen, and wrote a note to send back to Bloodfang with new instructions.

In a nutshell, his instructions were to buy off the bankrupted estates what he could of property. He also gave the instruction to offer 'Delayed Sales'. That is, buy their personal homes, but allow the current residents to remain within them until they left the property or died. The property could not be left for another in their estate; however, it could be purchased back, if the House of Potter was willing to sell it, at 'market rates'.

He also instructed the goblin to 'hide' within the sale contract a clause that said; if the resident became a guest of Azkaban for any length of time, it would be considered a change of residence and that they had left the home. At that time, he would take possession of it, or them; including the contents that existed within the property at that time.

He knew the goblin would get a kick out of that.

Two days later, Harry received a response from Bloodfang where the goblin named him a honourary goblin for his 'sheer devious business acumen'.

Thinking about it further, he also sent a list of those families who were bankrupted, possibly bankrupted, or near it; to Cygnus, Sirius, Aunt Amelia and Gran. He wanted them aware of the change of fortunes of that many families as it would soon have major repercussions on the Wizengamot.

While a Noble House could not lose it's Noble status - and, therefore, it's seat on the Wizengamot - those Houses that held a seat, but were not Noble, _would_ be losing those seats if found to be bankrupt. Also, though a Noble House could not lose it's seat, that seat would be suspended until such time as the bankruptcy was cleared.

Further, though three House seats of Noble status had recently been reactivated - Dagworth-Granger, Gryffindor and Slytherin - plus a new one created - Gaunt - if as many seats would be lost as Harry anticipated, it left vacancies for others to be created to fill the gaps. Harry wanted '_in_' on deciding which lucky Houses would be given the opportunity.

Too many 'dark' Houses were given the opportunity after the previous war. And members of those Houses were more than likely to have been part of the cause of those vacancies existing in the first place; as they were of Death Eaters who wiped out the original families.

Two such 'lost' Houses were McKinnon and Prewett. McKinnon was wiped out unless Isabel and Monica could find a witch or wizard recently born of a squib of the line. As for the Prewetts, which they knew of, there was Molly Weasley nee Prewett; and Mafalda Prewett. Mafalda had recently been sorted into Slytherin, much to the Weasleys' collective dismay - so they'd ignored her. She was the daughter of a Prewett squib, an accountant. However, if Mafalda ends up not marrying with a betrothal contract with a Line Continuation clause in it, the Prewett name would be considered 'dead'. This was another family Isabel and Monica were tracing and were considering talking to the girl's father to take her in for the primogenitor test with the goblins; even if it would _really_ annoy the current Weasley family 'screaming banshee' matriarch. If necessary, Harry would play hardball with her and remind her of the time Ginny's life was saved.

Finding out Hermione was the rightful Heir of Dagworth-Granger was a fluke. They knew that now. While Monica's computer had as much information within it's databases as they could pour into it, they had not yet found any further rightful Heirs for Noble Houses. But, they had not given up hope.

Instead, they were also looking for information from the wizarding communities of magical America and magical Australiana - combined Australia and New Zealand. But had, so far, met headaches in trying to get their recent census results. Those two nations were the top two for émigrés from magical Britain.

In a meeting in the Longbottom office, preceding the October Wizengamot session, Gran and Aunt Amelia raised why the work of Isabel and Monica were so important to them. There was a legal loophole in the rules regarding the formation of that august body that allowed the Minister to put toadies in as heads of departments. As each department head, plus the senior undersecretary, also had a position on the Wizengamot due to their position, it allowed the current minister to slowly, but surely, create for him or herself a significant voting bloc of eight members who owed their positions, and seats, to him or her.

Gran, with Aunt Amelia's support, had been trying to strip away the voting rights of those department heads, yet allow them to remain on the Wizengamot as advisors, only. However, they had not a chance of having the votes to bring that to a successful conclusion.

Now, though, they were finally getting there. When Harry pulled the proxies away from Dumbledore supporters, he pulled them away from those who would have voted against the motion, and gave them to people who would. That was a change of _four_ votes - two lost from the votes, against; and two added to the votes, for. Next, the activation of the seat for Dagworth-Granger gave them another, the activation of Gryffindor and Slytherin gave them another two, and the activation of Gaunt would give them yet another. A total change of eight votes.

Minister Dirk Creswell had turned out to be a decent man. He wasn't one to bluster or dither, and he didn't seem to be one to accept bribes. Harry was quite happy to _reactively_ support the man. However, he wasn't going to use his fame to _proactively_ support him - _unless_, he ended up in a race for the position against someone Harry despised when the next elections approached.

With the Minister's support, that would possibly cause a voting fracture within the heads of department to possibly swing one or two across from the 'Nays' to the 'Yays'.

'Merlin! I hate politics,' he thought. It was why he was so eager to hand off the proxies.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As they headed towards Christmas, Harry and Daphne became more 'in tune' with Harry's new responsibilities, and their status as a married couple.

The group had moved their study area from the Come and Go Room to the study area Harry had created within the suites. As a Professor, Harry was also able to write 'after curfew' hall passes for those sessions that didn't end until after curfew, so their friends were able to head back to their common rooms without facing point losses or detentions.

However, shortly after the group had broken up for the night, one night, and he and Daphne were about to ready themselves for bed, he received a warning from the castle's portraits that Luna had been attacked not far from the Ravenclaw tower.

Barefoot, he raced out of their bedroom, grabbed his Firebolt, and took off out the gryffin portrait, mounting his broom as he went.

He entered the grand staircase and shot up the void, dodging an already moving flight as he went. He hit the sixth floor and shot along the corridor. In the corridor immediately before the one he was told Luna was in, he brought the broom to an almost rump-sliding halt, hopped off and popped his wand into his hand.

He calmly walked around the corner leaving his broom hovering next to the wall before the corner.

He saw Draco Malfoy, Pansy Parkinson and the bookends as they dragged a kicking Luna into one of the vacant classrooms on that floor. They didn't see him as they entered, pulling the door shut behind them.

With his magic swirling, he stormed up the corridor. Once at the door he tried to open it and found it locked and warded.

Backing up, he cast an overpowered Reductor Curse at the door, reducing it to sawdust; and immediately stormed in. The two bookends were holding an arm each of Luna and had her pulled over onto her back on a desk. Malfoy was standing between her legs undoing his belt. The only immediate threat was Parkinson.

He cast a Full Body Bind Curse at her, causing her to go stiff as a board and topple over with a look of surprise on her face.

He started with a Summoning Charm on Malfoy as he reached for his wand and his pants fell down around his ankles, followed by a Banishing Charm to slam him into the opposite wall.

The two bookends were hit with Stunners. Turning back to Malfoy he levitated the boy off the floor from where he was panicking and trying to scramble to his feet, before Banishing him back at the wall and sticking him there with a full body Sticking Charm.

Crying her heart out, Luna was struggling up off the table. He immediately moved to her and wrapped her in his arms.

"Easy, dear Luna," he spoke to her in soothing tones. "I'm here. I promised I would protect you, and here I am."

She sobbed her heart out and shivered as the adrenalin within her system started to burn off. While she cried, Harry started to think of how we was going to handle this whole mess.

Once it appeared she was almost calmed, he gently picked her up in bridal carry and carried her from the room. At the doorway, he cast a Wide Area Stasis Charm on the room, and a Wizard Notice-Me-Not Charm on the doorway, so passing students or staff would not find it.

Returning to his broom, he mounted it and had Luna ride behind him as he gently rode the broom back down to the owners' suites. He even rode the broom through the opened portrait hole and up into their study area. There, they were met with both Daphne and Tracey. Both were worried but relieved to see him and Luna enter, even if it was while riding a broom.

Asking the girl to hop off, she was immediately wrapped in the arms of both Daphne and Tracey, eliciting yet further sobs from their younger Ravenclaw friend.

"She's staying here tonight," said Harry. "For, _at least_, tonight."

"What happened?" asked Tracey.

"Malfoy - with the help of Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson - tried to... he was about to..." he tried but stuttered.

"He was about to _rape_ me," sobbed Luna.

Daphne and Tracey both hissed in shock.

"She's staying with me for tonight," said Tracey. She turned to Luna and asked, "Do you want to sleep with me?"

Luna hesitated for a moment before she carefully nodded her head.

"Then, it's decided," said Tracey with an air of finality.

"Maisey," called Daphne.

With a slight pop the little elf appeared, "Yes, Mistress?"

Looking back, Daphne said, "Maisey. I need you to go to the Ravenclaw Fourth Year girls' dorm, pack Miss Lovegood's property for her, and put it in Miss Tracey's room. Can you do that for me?"

"Yes, Mistress," curtseyed the elf before it popped away.

"Settled and done," said Daphne.

"Come," said Tracey to Luna. "We'll cuddle and talk." She led the still upset girl by the hand down through the interconnecting passage as Daphne turned to Harry.

"Alright. What have you done with Malfoy and his - cohorts?" she asked in an ominous voice.

"They're still in the room in which they tried to - hurt Luna. They're under a wide area Stasis Charm and the door is hidden," he sighed. "I know what I _want_ to do to them. But, what do I _actually_ do?"

She sighed. "Let's think this through."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The next morning, the student population was required to be in the Great Hall at 8.30am for a special announcement. No one who knew why was talking; and those who didn't, were just curious.

At 8.30am, Harry stood to make his announcement. This was something he'd already worked out with both Headmaster Flitwick and Deputy Headmistress McGonagall.

Standing before them all he soon had silence. "Last night, one of our own was attacked within our home; Hogwarts. The attack was carried out by another four of our own. Their attack was planned in advance. Their attack was meant to be one of _gang-rape_."

That shocked them. Harry allowed them to talk among themselves for a few moments before he continued, "However - what they failed to consider - is that this castle is _mine_. As I've informed you _all_ before, I am Lord of the Manor. The castle ultimately answers to me. It was designed, from the ground up, to protect you. It was built at a time when the founders were concerned for the safety of their students. So, certain magics were imbued into the very walls. There is a _reason_ Hogwarts is considered the safest place in magical Britain; and it's not just it's wards.

"Last night - shortly after curfew - I was alerted by Hogwarts of an attack taking place on the sixth floor near the Ravenclaw tower entrance. The four culprits lay in wait for a fifth - a young female Ravenclaw student. Their plan was to ambush her, drag her into a nearby unused classroom - _and rape her_.

"The four laying in ambush are - were - Slytherin students. They had no other reason to be where they were. In other words, this was _clearly_ a pre-meditated attack.

"When I arrived on the scene of the second part of the crime - after the initial attack and in the unused classroom - they had the young female Ravenclaw student bent backwards over a desk. Two of them held her arms out and down, effectively pinning her to the desk while she struggled mightily and under effects of a Silencing Charm. A third - a female, believe it or not - was maliciously whispering in the young Ravenclaw's ear an in-depth description of just what they were planning to do to her. The fourth was between our victim's legs and was dropping his trousers ready to carry out this heinous deed; his penis, erect."

He could see the effect his words were having on the students. Many were clearly angry. Some were visibly upset. Some just sat in stunned shock. A few looked positively murderous.

"Here are the perpetrators," he said, before turning to the wall behind the Slytherin table, between the top end of that and the head table, and cancelling the Invisibility Charm he'd cast on the wall much earlier that morning. Cancelling the charm showed all four pinned spread-eagle to the wall with their feet at least three feet off the floor.

He then revived them but left them silenced by a Tongue Locking Charm. They could hear, and they could make a little noise, but they could not speak.

"My initial reaction was simply to - _execute_ - them. _And_, to do it publicly," he flatly said. "The law is on my side in this. As both Lord Slytherin and Lord Gryffindor it is _my right_ to do so when such heinous crimes are committed within these walls against our students."

Looking at them he could see they'd clearly heard him. Malfoy was looking murderous. Crabbe and Goyle were looking confused. But Parkinson understood just how much trouble she was in and had wet herself. Harry banished the puddle that formed on the floor below her.

"However, my lovely wife fears what effect this would have on me, as a person," he said, turning back to the students. "Through her wise counsel I have decided _not_ to carry out the deed, myself. I shall hand them to the DMLE, where I will demand their immediate incarceration until their trials.

"I will also consider sitting on the trial panel. And, when they are found guilty of their crimes - I have no doubt of that - I will be asking for their executions, as per the law for crimes of this nature."

That was the cue for Madam Bones and six aurors - four men and two women - to enter through the double doors.

"Ah!" he said, noticing them. "Madam Bones! Good to see you. Your perpetrators are hanging about..." he gestured to the four, "... just over there for you."

It was only because he had gotten to know her so well that Harry noticed the little twitch of her cheek that showed she was struggling not to smile back. "Would you mind letting them down so my aurors can cuff them and take them away?" she wryly asked.

"Certainly!" he replied. "But, first..."

He walked over to stand about six feet short of them; and looked up at the four. "For crimes against the Noble and Ancient House of Slytherin, you are hereby banished from the House." A quick wave of his wand and all Slytherin paraphernalia affixed to their robes and under clothing was stripped away, leaving them in plain Hogwarts robes.

"For crimes against Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, you are hereby expelled from the school and grounds," he continued; and all crests on their ties disappeared, leaving them in plain robes. "As you are now currently unschooled - and, as you have not yet passed even one OWL each - as per the law, you are hereby banned from using any magic, whatsoever, until such time as you again enter formal education. Though I very much doubt _that_ is ever likely to occur.

"For crimes against other students, crime so foul as to warrant your execution, you are hereby remanded into the custody of the DMLE. There, you shall abide, until such time as the conclusion of your trials."

He then waved his wand releasing all charms placed upon them. All four dropped to the ground.

The three boys remained on their feet. However, Miss Parkinson dropped to her knees and bum, sobbing her eyes out. The six aurors stepped forward and quickly affixed anti-magic cuffs to the four of them.

Harry looked at Aunt Amelia and drew four wands from his pocket. "Their wands, Madam," he said. When she accepted them and, as she was dropping all four into an evidence bag, he reached in and withdrew two small phials; offering them to her. "And, these are the memories of the young witch victim and myself of the events."

Again, with the twitch, Aunt Amelia accepted the two phials and dropped them into a pocket of her own robes.

Turning to her aurors, she said, "Take them back to the DMLE and dump them in four individual holding cells."

The six headed out with their prisoners.

Turning back to Harry, she gave a small bow and said, "Lord Potter-Gaunt-Slytherin-Gryffindor. Good morning." Before she turned to Headmaster Flitwick, who had a grim expression on his face. "Headmaster," she said with the same bow.

Then, she turned about and stalked out after her aurors.

After she'd left, Harry said to the students, "Unlike Professor Dumbledore, Headmaster Flitwick and I recognise a crime for what it is - a crime - and not children just 'acting out'. If you commit a crime within these grounds, you will be held accountable for them."

Harry held their collective gazes for a moment more before turning to the Headmaster. "Headmaster, they're yours." and he walked over off to the side.

Professor Flitwick stood in place on his seat and looked out across the students. "As you have witnessed, the days of you only receiving a point loss and detentions for crimes committed, are well and truly over. Remember that.

"Classes resume at 9.00am - in a little over ten minutes from now. Don't be late." And he sat down again.

Many students used that opportunity to rise and head to class. Others remained a little longer to chat among themselves.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back in their suite, Harry drew Daphne into a hug. "I may not have liked the little shit - or his friends - but that still didn't mean I wanted him dead," he said.

"No," she replied. "But he has well and truly 'earned' his execution. He, especially, has been heading that way since I've known him."

"Yes, but the others..." he sighed. "The two bookends are too stupid to know any better. And, I think Parkinson only behaved the way she did due to the betrothal contract between her and the Amazing Bouncing Ferret."

"And, if that is the case, it _should_ all come out in trials," she argued back. "Come," she said, stepping away from him and taking him by the hand. "Tracey and Luna are in the kitchen, sitting around the dining table."

And led him into the other room.

When they walked in, Tracey asked, "Well?"

"The four of them were led away in cuffs, a short while ago," he said. "But, before they were led away, I kicked them out of Slytherin; and then kicked them out of the school. They will never return. I'll make sure of that."

"Good," Tracey firmly said. "And, good riddance."

Two days later, Harry attended the trial. Again, as it pertained to one event, all four were tried together. Malfoy was sent through the veil - physically tossed through, really; kicking and screaming. His sentence was on his own words. "The blood traitor should have _welcomed_ my attention! A good _fucking_ is all she's good for!"

Sirius immediately claimed the estates of the House of Malfoy and ended the line. He welcomed Narcissa back into the Black family as Narcissa Black, on probation.

Malfoy Manor, originally Black Manor until it became part of the dowry of Narcissa to House Malfoy, was returned to it's name of Black Manor. Sirius went through it with a fine tooth comb; and found a hidden section below the basement.

He never told Harry what he found, down there. He'd just say it both horrified and sickened him and leave it at that. All dark arts stuff he found, he destroyed. Of the personal property of both recent male Malfoys, he allowed Narcissa to take what mementos she wanted. She only took a little stuffed animal toy and a baby blanket that was Draco's when he was an infant. Everything else was burned on the same fire Sirius used to destroy much of what he'd found below the manor. And Malfoy family portraits. He claimed back the Black family portraits.

For their own roles, the other three were sent to minimum security - dementor free - in Azkaban for five years, each. Pansy hung herself a month later using her prisoner's robes and the bars on her cell. It was Christmas Day. Harry blocked any mention of it from the Daily Prophet's publications. And, Luna had no interest in publishing it, either.

Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle were released at the conclusion of their sentences. Their mothers, who had already left magical Britain by then, immediately took them to live abroad. They were not heard from again.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	85. A Talk of Shovels

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty Five - A Talk of Shovels**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With the Slytherin Four - as they became known - gone from Hogwarts, everyone's spirits seemed to lift. People now walked the halls confident in their security within the castle. The Slytherins and Gryffindors still, occasionally, almost came to spellfire. However, it only ever amounted to threats and posturing. And, only ever with the older years.

The Weasley twins' pranking backed right off, too. They were in their NEWT year and knew they had to knuckle down and do well. Their future, as proprietors of Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, demanded it; and they knew it.

Harry was unsure whether or not to head home to Potter Manor, for Christmas. Hogwarts was also their home; now, more so than ever. But, Daphne demanded it. And, Daphne got what she wanted.

The trip home on the Hogwarts Express on the 22nd of December was a relaxing journey for the group. Others, from among the years, received invitations to join them. Now that Harry had finally got it through some very mulish heads that the owners' carriage was his, he allowed others to come and visit.

On the way home for Christmas, as soon as the train left the platform at Hogsmeade, he wandered down the length of the train from back to front looking to see who was sitting where. On the way back, as a treat, he offered those who were sitting alone the opportunity to join him in the owners' carriage for the entire trip. They all accepted. However, there was only five.

By way of further apology to Astoria - he'd been doing a lot of that since the 'shovel incident' - he also invited her and Colin to join them. Colin was even allowed to take photographs of the interior of the carriage so long as he asked first; and Harry could clear out the students to the other end while Colin took the photographs.

The photographs he took ended up published in the Quibbler in a special Christmas article about the founders. They joined photographs he had taken of the modified owners' suites in the castle. There was even one of Harry sitting at his desk in his office in the old Slytherin suite potions lab, with Daphne perched on the edge of the desk.

Harry asked for, and received, a 5"x7" copy of the photograph. He kept it in a gold frame on the same desk shown in the photograph.

Yes, the newlyweds - as that was what they still considered themselves to be - spent Christmas at Potter Manor. However, that was just their 'home base' for the extra-long Christmas break. The two spent time at Greengrass Estate, the Black House - which Sirius now preferred to be his home, rather than the re-acquired Black Manor - a night at Dagworth-Granger Manor, and visits with the Davises, the Boneses, and the Longbottoms. Luna joined them overnight twice; and the twins, once.

The two 'blew off' the Ministry Yule Ball, and Harry was scolded for it in his own paper. He grumbled about it, but couldn't smack them down for it as it was the truth, without spin.

"You know this means we'll have to go next year, right?" he asked Daphne, after reading the article to her over breakfast.

She sighed and said, "I know." Perking up a bit, she said, "Maybe we'll get lucky and something'll happen that'll get it cancelled."

With a snort, Harry said, "It would have to be something _really_ big, to do that. They still held the annual Yule Balls during the war with Voldemort."

Finally, the break ended and, on the 12th of January, they were once more on the Hogwarts Express steaming back to southern Scotland.

This time - with Daphne's suggestion - they brought with them Monty Wordsworth. They were using the trip to give him a long interview of the current life of one Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, the Young-Man-Who-Conquered, Basilisk-Slayer, Lord of four Noble and Ancient Houses, doting husband. It was the last 'title' he was most proud of.

From Monty he also learned why the Ministry was most unhappy with him. On the night, they had wanted to award him the Order of Merlin, First Class, for his defeat of Riddle/Voldemort.

"I do not believe I would have accepted it," he said, when told. "I believe my mother should have been awarded it due to her actions on the night of the 31st of October 1981. _She_ killed Riddle that night, not me. She well and truly earned one, even if it would have been posthumously.

"And, to top it off, they awarded a Third Class to Pettigrew, supposedly posthumously, for just supposedly being there? The one later proven to have been their betrayer? No, I think I would have refused it. There are others in the queue, before me, who haven't been awarded theirs, yet. Let them be awarded first; then the Minister can come and talk to me about it - instead of trying to 'surprise' me with it."

"And how are you handling your myriad of duties?" asked Monty. "Four Lordships, overall management of Hogwarts, studying for your OWLs, and recently married makes for a very busy schedule."

"I have a loving family, understanding and assisting friends, a very understanding and knowledgeable Headmaster, and a wife who is my partner in all things," he said. "Plus, I have a clever and hardworking Master Account Keeper in Gringotts, and a very smart lawyer to look after a lot of the financials."

"About Hogwarts; you sacked the school board and replaced them with people of your own choosing."

"The School Board_ of Governors_, once I took up my Slytherin and Gryffindor Lordships, became superfluous - redundant. With me taking the helm, there was no longer a need for governors, so I shut down the board," he replied. "However, I felt I still needed advisors. So, I appointed my lawyer, Mister Dewey Skroohem to my board of advisors as legal counsel; my main proxy on the Wizengamot, Dowager Lady Augusta Longbottom, for her depth of knowledge in the legislative field and in managing the affairs of an Ancient House; Lady Isabel Greengrass, for her knowledge and experience in dealing with the muggle world; and the goblin, Bloodfang, for his understanding and expertise in finance for dealing with the financial situation of the school. There's also a fifth individual I'm hoping can make himself available, but I've not heard back from him his decision, yet."

"That second last one created a ruckus," said Monty. "Many didn't like the idea of you having a goblin on your board of advisors."

"Tough!" snapped Harry. "While others might have an idiotic view of whom and what is best, you cannot go past the goblins for having the best financial advisors there are. Master Bloodfang is doing such a fantastic job of overseeing the financials of the school; we may soon be able to consider dropping fees for students. And that's _after_ I've already spent over a hundred thousand Galleons modernising books, equipment and plantlife within the school. No other financial advisor has accomplished that before him. Of course, if people actually _want_ to pay more in school fees - I'll be happy to accommodate them."

"As for the financials, the school's coffers were in a _deplorable_ state. And they got that way under the guardianship of the governors and previous headmasters. From my own funds, almost the very first thing I did was pour a significant amount of money into the funds for Hogwarts. This has allowed the Headmaster to replace the dangerous school brooms, replace worn out furniture and fittings, repopulate the greenhouses, hire more staff, provide better pay for all staff, provide opportunities for staff to further their own learning, purchase more and up-to-date books for the school library, and quite a few other things."

The interview went almost for the entire trip. Monty left directly for the offices of the Daily Prophet from Hogsmeade station with reams of parchment filled out by a dicta-quill. If not for Frosty keeping them supplied with tea and butterbeers, Harry's voice would have been reduced to a croak by the time they were finished.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back into studying and Harry was finding his days filled with study, teaching, study, admin for his Houses, admin for the school, study, the odd staff meetings, working on assignments, and study.

Things had degenerated to the point where he was cutting classes short, or not attending them at all. He just thanked God for his eidetic memory. He knew he'd not pass his OWLs without it. Or, at least not get his usually high grades.

It was Neville who finally dragged him aside about it.

"Harry, mate," he began. "You _cannot_ keep going like this."

"What else am I supposed to do, Nev?" he asked back, a little short.

"Some things have to go," said the other boy. "Hand over the financials of the Houses to Dewey. He can work with Bloodfang on your behalf. And, now that you've got yourself a great team of advisors - instead of that corrupt school board - stop directly managing them, and let them be somewhat autonomous in dealing with the financials of the school. Just ask for a report from them once in a while.

"I'd also suggest you give up being an Adjunct Professor in DADA; but, I can see how much you actually enjoy that. So, keep that and just your studies. Everything else must go."

Harry put his quill down and leaned back in his chair. He raised both hands and let his fingers scratch through his scalp while he thought.

Finally, he rocked back forward again. With a sigh, he said, "You're right, Nev; you're right."

"I know," smiled the other boy. "I just hoped you'd see I was."

Harry blew him a raspberry.

"Alright," he said, "how do we go about this?"

"Arrange a meeting with Dewey, but tell him what you want to do in advance," Nev replied. "Next, call a meeting of the advisors, ask the Headmaster to attend and stay only long enough to inform _them_ of what you're doing. Easy-Peasy."

"Yeah, it really _is_ that simple, isn't it?" he said.

And it's precisely what he did. Only a week later the majority of his work disappeared from his needed attention. He was able to spend more time with Daphne and his friends. And he was able to attend his classes - with the exception of those he was occasionally teaching.

As an apology to Daphne for not paying as much attention to her as he thought he should, he took her to Come and Go Room for a romantic dinner for two. This time, it was as a scene from a top floor restaurant looking across Sydney Harbour, the Sydney Harbour Bridge and the Sydney Opera House completely lit up.

After Harry had apologised yet again, Daphne said, "I keep telling you, Harry; you've _nothing_ to apologise for. It's not as if you were slacking off, or anything; you were working hard for our future.

"I'm just glad Neville was able to get through to you that you needed to step back from managing so many things, at once. You were beginning to get quite short-tempered."

"I'm sorr..."

"Hush!" she snapped. "Things are better now. Now you just have to keep it that way."

He nodded in response, afraid she'd just shut him up again.

After a few minutes, she asked, "Did you know both Hermione and Susan now have boyfriends?"

Harry looked up a little startled. "No - umm - no, I didn't."

She nodded and said, "Hermione's seeing a boy in our year, a Justin Finch-Fletchley."

"Oh," said Harry, instantly recalling what he knew of the boy. "He was one of the first petrified by the Basilisk. We shared workstations for Potions, third year. He was also down for Eton - pretty posh private school that - when he received his Hogwarts letter. By the way he talks, and the 'posh' inflection of his voice, _and_ how his parents were dressed when they visited him in the infirmary were he was unpetrified, it looks like his family's well-to-do."

Daphne nodded. "According to Hermione, they are. His grandfather is supposed to be an earl, or something."

"But, what's he like as a person, away from classes?" asked Harry.

"From the few times I've met him, he's quite nice. He's a gentleman with Hermione and us other ladies. And he's helped us out with the etiquette club."

"Okay, cool," said Harry. "And who's Susan seeing?"

"Eddie Carmichael in Ravenclaw." Harry looked up, a little startled. "Really?" he almost squeaked.

"Really," she smirked.

"Huh!" said Harry, settling back. "I would have thought she'd take up with someone like Diggory, or Michael Corner.

Giving her head a little shake she said, "No. Diggory's back to seeing Cho, even though he'ds now graduated; and Corner's dating Ginny Weasley."

"Well, if both girls are still dating them, once finish our OWLs, I'll have to tell them both to invite their boyfriends into the owners' carriage."

"I was hoping you'd say that," she smiled. "Because I've already told both of them exactly that."

"So, if things work out for them, that leaves Luna as the only one single," shrugged Harry. "Alright, then."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

As they headed towards their actual OWL exams, Harry was finally able to finish the 'squib' wand he was working on. With Filch's assistance, he finally got it working. It took many more wands before he eventually got a good enough match; but, it worked.

As he'd promised to let the old caretaker keep the wand, Filch even demonstrated using it in the Ancient Runes class before Professor Babbling. _And_ promised to demonstrate it during Harry's OWL practical for the subject.

His career advice talk in early May with the 'nest mother' - as they'd come to call the Ravenclaw Head of House, Madam Smithson - was quick. Harry's career would be supporting his wife, and taking a more active interest in the Wizengamot and administering Hogwarts.

Both Potters also took apparition classes when Wilkie Twycross came to the school. Both passed and sat their 'exam' at the Ministry to get their apparition licences. While Harry _hated_ side-along apparition, he felt apparating himself didn't feel so bad. He thought it might have something to do with how he was in control.

What was surprising for others, but Harry already suspected was the case, was that he and Daphne were both able to apparate within the school and through the school wards.

The OWLs were as difficult as Harry expected them to be. However, he was able to answer _all_ the questions, and went for the bonuses in every subject.

In Ancient Runes, Filch demonstrated the wand, and Harry described how and why it worked; in Arithmancy, he described how seven was supposedly a magical number and demonstrated what he thought were improvements on the initial theory; in Charms, he not only made legs appear on a teacup, he had it performing a softshoe shuffle and a tap dance. Then, he followed it up with his overpowered patronus.

However, when he entered for his practical for DADA, the examiners took on look at him and said, "Forget it, Lord Potter. You took out a dark lord a year ago; and you're currently teaching in the subject. Should your theory work be up to snuff - and we daresay we know it will be - we're giving you an O+ for the subject. You may leave."

Exams finally finished on Thursday, the 18th of June. From then on, until they caught the Hogwarts Express back to London on the Sunday, their time was their own. Arranged in advance, the group had a party to celebrate in the living room area of the suites.

The next morning, Harry came down from his and Daphne's master bedroom to find Justin and Eddie sleeping on two couches down in the living room area. But, where were Neville and Blaise?

Then, his eyes widened. Tracey had her own room down on the bottom level. He suspected the twin rooms were where he'd find Hermione and Susan.

Looking at the ceiling, he thought Luna might be in one of the ex-kitchen bedrooms and Hannah in the other - with Neville?"

Grinning, he dashed into his office and ducked across to the Map. Looking about it, he found what he was looking for. Yes, Blaise was in with Tracey lying side-by-side; Luna was in with... Susan? With Hermione in the other bed.

That meant... Neville and Hannah were in separate rooms in the ex-kitchen bedrooms.

'So, the only ones getting up to any hanky-panky last night, was Tracey and Blaise,' he thought.

Chuckling to himself, he went back up to the kitchen and had Maisey prepare him something. A couple of minutes after he sat down, Daphne joined him just as Hedwig came flying in through the window.

A kiss for the wife and couple of pieces of bacon for the familiar - plus a couple of soft strokes of her feathers - and he was reading the Prophet.

Now that the two had taken up residence in the suites, both Hedwig and Midnight - Daphne's cat - had also taken up residence. Harry would sometimes enjoy a late night snack and he'd often have Midnight wanting up onto his lap, or jumping onto the arm of his chair, in the expectation he'd share with her. The old softy he was, he would.

However, Midnight would often prove to be a pain in the bum when he was trying to work at his desk. She'd always want up on the desk and, as soon as she was, she'd want to play with his quill feather.

He'd eventually trained her to snuggle down into a cat basket on the ledge of the window, in the warm rays of the sun, where she could watch him and be patted, to save on destroyed quills.

Hedwig's stand was close by for the same reason.

"I noticed Eddie and Justin crashed on the couches, out there," she said. "Who spent the night here?

"Everyone," Harry smirked.

He watched her frown as she got that look she adopted when she was thinking hard about something and trying to solve a problem or puzzle.

When he saw her eyes open wide, he snickered.

"Neville and Hannah..." she asked.

"Nope," he replied. "Neville and Hannah are in separate beds in the two new bedrooms directly above us."

"Tracey and Blaise?" she asked.

"Yep. Together. In her bed," he replied with a smirk.

"Okay," she mused. "That just leaves the twin bedroom of Salazaar's old master bedroom. That would mean - Susan, Hermione and Luna are in those two beds."

"Correct," he said with a grin.

She gave a snort. "As Susan went to bed first, and Hermione second, I'd say Luna just walked in and jumped into bed with Susan. Luna knows that Susan and Hannah used to cuddle up together, so wouldn't have hesitated to cuddle up to Sue."

With another snort she said, "Sue's going to be ever so surprised. Luna likes to sleep in the nude."

"I know," he sniggered, "she told me. We need more rooms. With the break effectively starting tomorrow, I'm going to come back sometime early next week and see if I can find the entrance to the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw suites.

"I have a feeling they're probably right alongside the entrances to Gryffindor and Slytherin. And, if they are, I'm going to see if I can get the elves to link them through like I've done with these two."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

People started rising and making their way to where Daphne and Harry were sitting at the dining table in the kitchen eating their breakfasts.

As each came in, they were greeted with a "good morning," but, generally ignored.

Maisey and Frosty enjoyed serving them all.

When Blaise and Tracey turned up, Harry smirked at them. "Have fun, you two?"

Tracey blushed while Blaise puffed up a little and said, "I had a most pleasant evening, yes."

"Glad to hear it," smiled Harry. "Just remember the shovel."

"The - shovel?" asked Blaise.

Harry grinned. "Allow me to give the shovel talk..."

"Har-ry..." growled Daphne.

"Anyways," said Harry, quick to change the subject. "The twins didn't stay long. As they've now finished their education, they're not even staying for the train ride back to London. They walked out the front gate and apparated directly to their new business premises."

"Eager to get started?" asked Hannah.

"Definitely," replied Harry. "From their market research they know that the two periods they'll make most of their profit is during the summer break; and during the lead up to Christmas."

Daphne cut in, "So, they've gone to get everything set up as quick as they can in the few days they've got before the train heads back to London. Once students are back home, their store is going to get real crowded real fast."

"Good luck to them," said Blaise.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With the school year over, and another trip home of the Hogwarts Express, Harry and Daphne apparated from the platform to Potter Manor.

Of course, the house elves were ecstatic to have them home.

After a couple of days sorting out any problems, both then apparated into the owners' suite back at Hogwarts. "That is just _so_ cool," he chuckled.

Daphne just gave him an amused smirk. "At least you don't 'face plant' anymore."

"Hey!" he mock-pouted. "I told you. The floo system and portkeys hate me."

They exited out through the gryffin portrait and had a better look at the full corridor in which they stood.

"Alright," he said. Pointing, he indicated, "Up there is the Gryffindor living room. Directly above us is the Gryffindor master bedroom." Moving along to where the Slytherin door was he indicated again. "Down there is the Slytherin family room level; which, if my personal measurements are reasonably accurate, means my office and the armoury is under the Gryffindor kitchen and half bathroom. And, the Slytherin master and guest bedroom is directly under out feet. Is that what you think?"

Nodding, Daphne said, "That's about what I worked out, too."

"Good. I also think we should find the Ravenclaw suite next in a similar layout to the Gryffindor suites; then the Hufflepuff suites in a similar layout to Slytherin," he explained, indicating the whole way. "_Or_, Hufflepuff will be next to Gryffindor; and then Ravenclaw next to Hufflepuff."

Looking at the length of the corridor, and thinking about what of the layout they already knew, Daphne said, "There's a third option. One I think is more likely."

"Hmm?" he asked.

"There's really insufficient space for them both to be, as we're standing, to the right of Slytherin," she explained. "The same for them to be to the left of Gryffindor.

"Further, Hufflepuff would want to be closest to the infirmary. So, I think we'll find Hufflepuff to the left of Gryffindor; and Ravenclaw to the right of Slytherin."

Nodding, Harry said, "Then, let's check."

Both headed to the area of wall left of Gryffindor and found a portrait of a close-up scene of a forest. The frame went almost to the floor. "Definitely Hufflepuff," muttered Harry.

He looked further along for any sign Ravenclaw's chambers would be there, but couldn't find anything.

Walking back down the corridor, they passed by Slytherin's door and began their search. Sure enough, they found a small alcove with an eagle similar to the one that guarded the Ravenclaw tower entrance.

"Well, you're right," he said. "The third option looks like the winner."

Uh-hmm," she said. "But, how do we get into them?"

He smiled at her and said, "By the same way we now bypass the Slytherin entrance. An inner connecting passage."

Understanding, her eyes lit up, "Oh; of course."

Re-entering the Gryffindor 'living room' Harry called Frosty.

"Yes, my Lord?" asked the elf, popping in.

"Hiya," he said, "Am I correct in believing the Hufflepuff suite is next to us, here?"

"Yes, my Lord," replied the elf.

"Excellent. Can you create a passage similar to the one that goes from here to the Slytherin suite; but, have it go from here to the Hufflepuff suite?"

"Yes, my Lord," replied Frosty. "If you wish."

"I do," said Harry. "Make it happen, please."

"Very well, my Lord," the elf replied before seeming to stare off into the distance a bit.

Harry and Daphne, both, heard - felt - that sub-audible groan and another door appeared matching the one to the Slytherin suite.

"Let's go check it out, shall we?" he smiled at Daphne.

Together, they descended the inter-connecting stairs to the Hufflepuff suite.

As expected, as soon as they stepped into the living room, a house elf appeared. "My Lord?" it asked. "Why is you here?"

"With no current rightful Heir for Hufflepuff; and, as I'm the only recognised owner of Hogwarts; I'll be making use of this suite until a rightful Heir of the Hufflepuff line presents themself. At that time, the suite will be returned to them."

The elf appeared to consider that for a moment before she said, "Then, welcome, my Lord and Lady. I am Whispy. I am responsible for this suite."

"Hello, then, Whispy," replied Harry. "As you know, I am Lord Gryffindor and Slytherin." Gesturing to Daphne he said, "And this is Lady Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"How about you show us around and we'll see what we can do to modernise this place, hmm?"

Whispy showed them through the suite. As expected, it was very similar to the layout of the Slytherin suite. The main differences were the extra large potions lab and much smaller armoury. And only one bedroom similar in size to the Gryffindor master. However, things were switched about. The potions lab and armoury were on the right, and the kitchen was on the left. The stairs leading down to the bedroom were also on the other side of the stairs leading back up to the corridor.

Back in the living room, Harry looked at the back wall of the small armoury and asked Whispy, "Is the Slytherin armoury on the other side of this wall?"

"Oh, yes, my Lord," she said.

"Well, well," said Harry, turning to Daphne. "That's going to make it easier."

You're thinking of putting a door through there, aren't you?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said. The connecting stairs go through to the Gryffindor suite. A door through here will go through to the Slytherin suite, into the storage room there. They're both on the same level.

"And, I'm pretty sure we'll find the Gryffindor and Ravenclaw suites on the same level one floor up. They're just off-set from being directly atop each other."

"Except the 'master' bedrooms of Gryffindor and Ravenclaw next to each other directly above the outside corridor; and Hufflepuff and Slytherin next to each other directly _below_ the outside corridor," said Daphne. "That's actually quite a clever design."

"Yeah," said Harry. "Now we just have to confirm it by going to the Slytherin suite and asking for internal stairs leading up to the Ravenclaw suite. Shall we?"

Smirking, Daphne replied, "We shall."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The two went up the new internal stairs back to the Gryffindor suite before taking the first internal stairs down to the Slytherin suite.

In the living room, Harry called Frosty, again.

"My Lord?" asked the elf, popping in.

"Frosty, I think the Ravenclaw suite is next along the line; is it not?" asked Harry.

"It is, my Lord," the elf replied.

"Then, same thing as last time, please," instructed Harry. "An internal connection between here and the Ravenclaw suite, if you would."

"At once, my Lord," replied the elf. Another short period where the elf looked to be staring off into the distance, another sub-audible groan, and another appearing door.

Grinning, this time Daphne led Harry up the flight of stairs into the Ravenclaw suite.

The house elf in this suite introduced himself as Puddles.

This time, the suite mimicked the Gryffindor suite but was also flipped so that the back walls of the potions labs and armouries backed onto one another. However, Ravenclaw already had a library where the armoury was in Gryffindor. So, it was not going to be much to have an inter-connecting door through the back wall, there. It meant the two libraries would be connected. Which made things a lot easier.

Now, the two needed to decide what they were going to do with all the extra room.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back at Potter Manor, Harry had been thinking off and on for the past couple of days what to do with all the extra room opening the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw suites allowed them.

They had two years remaining of their studies within the castle. But, did they actually need all that extra room for what was only a short period of time? No.

Once he had a fair idea in his mind, he started to work it onto parchment. Working from left to right.

The Hufflepuff kitchen was superfluous. They didn't need that whole side of the combined suites. So, the Hufflepuff kitchen would be closed off. The potions lab was huge and could be used for a lab, if they needed a lab other than for potions. Harry wasn't interested in a career in that field, nor did he think Daphne would seek that career path.

The bedroom might come in handy, though, with it's own bathroom. But the storage area was little more than a wide dead end corridor. He could use it to connect it through to the Slytherin suite, but that would mean losing the storage area in the Slytherin suites, as it currently stood.

The Ravenclaw suite was a whole different option.

Harry thought it might be best to use Ravenclaw as their 'private' suite and turn Gryffindor more fully over to the group. After all, Gryffindor was their preferred access, and their study area was in the suite living room.

The stuff currently stored in the Slytherin storage area could be moved into the Ravenclaw potions lab, which was smaller. - No; move his _office_ to the Ravenclaw potions lab, and use the old office as storage. Better.

And the new library in Gryffindor could be linked into the Ravenclaw library with that combined room now being an even bigger library.

No need to keep the Ravenclaw kitchen, either. It could be left alone, for now. So, they didn't need a half bathroom on that floor either. So that end of the Ravenclaw suite could be shut off the same as the Hufflepuff suite.

Effectively, they gained two extra 'master' bedrooms and two living rooms with room to expand. It worked.

A quick trip to Hogwarts and back and he had all four elves on their way to making the changes he required. They'd be ready in plenty of time for the next school year.

When he returned, Daphne asked, "So, we move into the Ravenclaw master suite, then?"

Harry nodded and said, "Yes. That way we can close off our 'private' area within the suites, leaving the rest to the group. Plus, we still have access direct through to Gryffindor and Slytherin "

"I like," she said.

"I've left the kitchen, in place, and have asked the elves to modernise it. But, I don't know if we'll ever use it. And, I'm moving my office from Slytherin to Ravenclaw so I don't have as far to travel."

"It'll be wonderful, darling; I'm sure," she said, coming up behind him and wrapping her arms about him for a hug.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	86. Heading to NEWTs

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty Six - Heading to NEWTs**

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the summer break, both Harry and Daphne gave a lot of thought to their career choices. Thinking of importing muggle devices made to work in wizarding homes, Daphne decided on a career as an Enchantress with further study in business. That would require her to continue her studies in Arithmancy and Ancient Runes, and take up the Business sixth and seventh year elective. She was dropping Astronomy, Herbology, and History of Magic; and keeping Potions, Charms, DADA and Transfiguration.

Harry decided to do similar but, finally, re-dropped Muggle Studies, even if it _had_ become more interesting.

"No more late nights in the Astronomy tower, love," he grinned at her.

"No," she replied. "Another night of snuggling with my honey, instead."

They both knew they had done more than well enough on their OWLs, so submitted their applications for the classes they wanted to take as soon as they received the applications.

Their results arrived on Saturday, 13th of July.

They sat opposite one another at the informal dining table. Each holding the thick envelope in their hands.

"You first, sweetheart?" he asked.

Daphne looked at him a moment or two before finally slitting the seal with her wand, and opening the envelope. She withdrew the sheet to look.

Both sitting in silence, Daphne held her results in her hand. Slowly, she looked up at Harry with a wide beaming smile.

"Well?" he asked. "I know you did well. The question is, just _how_ well?"

She smiled and said, "Not until you open yours," and indicated the envelope he held in his hands.

Harry sighed and used his wand to break the seal.

He withdrew the sheet of parchment from within and read it.

**Ordinary Wizarding Level Results**

**Pass Grades  
Outstanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)  
**

**Fail Grades  
Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)**

**Harry James Potter has achieved:**

**Ancient**** Runes O+  
Arithmancy O+  
Astronomy**** O  
Charms O+  
DADA O++ (1st)  
Herbology O+  
History of Magic O+  
Muggle Studies O  
Potions O+  
Transfiguration O+**

**18/20 possible OWLS. 1 bonus OWL - 1st Europe.**

He handed his to Daphne as she handed hers to him.

**Ordinary Wizarding Level Results**

**Pass Grades  
Outstanding (O)  
Exceeds Expectations (E)  
Acceptable (A)  
**

**Fail Grades  
Poor (P)  
Dreadful (D)  
Troll (T)**

**Daphne Ophelia Potter has achieved:**

**Ancient ****Runes**** O+  
Arithmancy O+  
Astronomy O  
Charms O+  
DADA O+  
Herbology O+  
History of Magic O+  
Potions O+  
Transfiguration O+**

**17/18 possible OWLS**

"Daphne!" said Harry, pleased for her. "You're brilliant! Straight double-Os, except for Astronomy. That's brilliant!"

"Hah!" she said. "You got the same for the same subjects. Plus, you took up Muggle Studies and earned an OWL in that, _and_ picked up a bonus for being top in our year for DADA."

"Well, with these scores, it looks like you're on your way, my dear Enchantress," Harry smiled. "Now we just need to await confirmation of our classes and purchase our books."

"What now, though?" she asked. "Shall we go visit the others and see how well they did?"

"A most superb plan, my dear?" replied Harry. "Lets!"

The entire group did well. Of course, they'd have to wait another year to hear how well Luna would do for her OWLs, but everyone was on their way towards their chosen careers.

Tracey wanted to take the path of a healer; so would be apprenticing under Madam Pomfrey for her next two years, before moving to Saint Mungo's to complete her studies. She was taking Arithmancy, DADA, Charms, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration and the Healing pre-apprenticeship.

Neville, who had been assisting Professor Sprout, was moving towards his apprenticeship under her for a Mastery in Herbology. He was taking Ancient Runes, Charms, DADA, Herbology, Potions, Transfiguration, and the pre-apprenticeship for Herbology. He'd also be undertaking a few teaching duties.

Hannah still didn't know what she wanted to do; but knew it would involve running a business of some fashion. She'd also be happy helping Neville. She was taking Arithmancy, Business, Charms, DADA, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration.

Susan was looking for a Ministry role, somewhere. She was taking Ancient Runes, Business, Charms, DADA, Herbology, Potions and Transfiguration.

Hermione was looking to go into Magical Research. She'd go into the Ministry, if necessary, but was more interested in the private sector. She also pulled off the top student spot just because she picked up more OWLs than Harry did. But, she also admitted it was because she took more classes. She was taking Ancient Runes, Arithmancy, Astronomy, DADA, Charms, Potions and Transfiguration.

Blaise was going into business with his mother, a renowned Potions Mistress in Europe. For now, though, he was intending to complete his NEWTs and see what happened from there.

Eddie Carmichael was looking towards the aurors, while Justin Finch-Fletchley was going to complete his Hogwarts education before moving to undertake his muggle education. His family owned and operated several large companies.

For the last three, Harry and Daphne didn't visit them. Instead, they heard the news from their girlfriends.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The booklists finally arrived on the 1st of August. The day after Harry's sixteenth birthday; shared with friends and family.

So, the two contacted the others to see if they wanted to make a day of it, going to Diagon Alley to collect their books; increase their private supplies of parchment, ink, quills and fountain pens, and replace what of their uniforms they'd outgrown.

Harry had hit another growth spurt, and was now hovering around five foot ten in height. He now considered he was of 'adult' height and hoped there wouldn't be too much growing left to do. So, all his uniforms needed replacing. Daphne also insisted on another day of shopping, but in muggle London.

They met with Hermione, Susan, Tracey and Luna. Hannah and Neville were going shopping as a couple and would be by the Alley at another time. Justin was shopping with his parents and Eddie with his other friends.

After collecting their books, and waving goodbye to their friends, Daphne dragged Harry off to Twillfit and Tattings for another fitting, and another set of 'school' robes, Wizengamot robes, and formal robes. Then it was over to Madam Malkins for more robes. This time, informal, casual, summer, and others.

"Come on, Daphne," whined Harry. "Why so many?"

"You need robes with the Potter crest, robes with the Potter, Gryffindor and Slytherin crests, at least one set of robes with just the Gaunt crest, and robes with all four," she said. "Now, stop fussing, be a good boy and let us outfit you."

They both knew Daphne was going to get her way, But Harry felt it was his place, as a male, to fuss during clothes shopping. However, he also knew he had to keep up appearances, so didn't make too big a deal of it.

Their last stop was to visit the new shopfront of Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. The outside of the building was, more often than not, a garish bright orange. However, the twins seemed to have found a way to permanently have it often change into other colours at odd times. And, none of them were of the 'muted' variety. They saw violet purple, fire engine red, lime green, canary yellow, rich blue, bright aqua, and indigo purple to name a few.

Inside, the boys had set the store up just as Harry suggested. To the left were racks between wall racks of stacked board games, boxed puzzles and jigsaws. An open area in the middle showed a half completed small jigsaw puzzle and a couple of unboxed brain puzzles. But the right was set up with shelving and racks filled with joke products - both, magical and muggle. And the place was crowded.

Harry and Daphne were trying to make their way through the crowds, looking for the twins, when voices from above caught their attention.

"Harry!"

"Daphne!" called the twins.

Looking up, Harry saw both standing on a flight of stairs dressed identically in bright orange trousers and blue shirts with khaki coloured long frock coats over the top. It was almost as eye-watering as the façade outside.

Looking up at them, Harry grinned back and waved.

"Come on up!" said one.

"Mind the rope," said the other.

Holding tightly to Daphne's hand and leading her, Harry made his way over to the bottom of the stairs. He removed the rope that acted as a barrier to the stairs and guided Daphne up as he stepped through and refastened the rope.

With Daphne leading he followed the twins up the stairs.

Stepping onto the top step he suddenly heard all noise from below disappear.

Seeing the expression on his face, one of the twins said, "A silencing privacy ward."

"Brother Bill set it up for us," said the other.

Looking around Harry noticed they were in the private living area of the twins. "I really like what you've done with the place," he said.

"Thank you," they said, together.

"Any problem with your mother concerning," said Harry before gesturing around with his arm, "this?"

"Lots!" said one, with clear glee.

"She went right spare!" said the other.

"Until we showed her we had financial backing," said the first.

"Now, she's proud of us," said the second.

"Kinda frightening, that is," said the first, a little disconsolate.

Harry grinned at Daphne before turning back to the twins. "I'm glad for you both," he said.

"It certainly looks popular," said Daphne, looking back down the stairs.

"Oh, it is!"

"A crowd awaits every morning."

"And, we have to force them out the door each evening.

"It's wonderful!" they sighed in unison.

After a quick show around their private apartment, the shop floor and the back room. The twins demanded Harry promise he'd let them take them both out to the 'factory' when they had the time.

Both Harry and Daphne promised, but said they didn't know when they'd have the time, just yet, but would when they could.

The other surprise over the summer was learning Sirius was finally settling down with one witch, while Remus was now dating young Nymphadora Tonks, a 'Black', who was a year out of the auror academy. Harry and Sirius both wanted to have fun twigging their honourary uncle and brother, but wisely decided not to lest the old wolf break the relationship off.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Just before returning for their sixth year at Hogwarts, Daphne and Harry were called to Greengrass Estates for a House meeting. There, they learned that young Colin had formally requested of Cygnus the right to 'court' Astoria's hand in marriage.

The view was young Colin had done everything right. And, even warned his parents that there was a high likelihood of a betrothal contract being involved. He even provided them with the information about them and why they existed. Information he was assisted in discovering through his perfect attendance figures at Harry and Daphne's etiquette club.

Because Harry knew Colin came from a lower class muggle family - his father was a milkman and his mother took short term jobs while the boys were at school - he offered to buy the betrothal rings. Colin was no fool too full of wasteful pride; he accepted. So, together, he and Colin went to the Potter family jeweller and found a lovely matching pair. However, when Colin asked, he flatly refused to let the boy know how much they cost. He thought the boy would faint again.

The betrothal contract - this time, not signed in blood - was signed between both families the day before the Hogwarts Express made it's run up to Scotland. And Colin immediately got down on one knee and proposed the muggle way. Astoria, of course, accepted.

The wedding would be held once they both reached seventeen years of age, but there was no time frame in place for when it was supposed to happen beyond that. As per the conditions of the contract, they could stay betrothed for decades if they wanted to. Or, they could individually or mutually agree to cancel the contract as long as such cancellation occurred before the wedding. The wedding would make the contract firm.

The only reason all parties agreed to even _have_ a betrothal contract, was so that Colin then fell under the protection of Greengrass House, and it would stop the purebloods continuing to try and court Cygnus for Astoria's hand. She was now 'off the market'.

Cygnus and Isabel were happy with it because Astoria was happy with it. No one's opinion, other that young Colin's, Astoria's and both parents', mattered.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Back at school after the 1st of September, and Harry was showing the group around the modified combined apartment.

"Wow!" said Neville. "I thought it was amazing last year. But, _this_? This is _astounding_."

"Hmm..." said Daphne. "An extra two bedrooms, so no more sleeping on couches; an extra two living rooms cum study areas; a much improved and expanded library, with many tomes not seen in a great many years; our bedroom no longer only half a flight of stairs and a single door away from the, then, only study area; and plenty of room remaining to expand when, and if, necessary."

"I like the decor," said Hermione simply. "Coral in Gryffindor, mint in Slytherin, custard in Hufflepuff and baby blue in Ravenclaw. Nice and modern colours, wall to wall carpeting in the dry areas, and a real 'homey' sort of feel for the place.

Turning to look at Daphne, she smirked and said, "You could easily raise children here; if you were of a mind."

Harry immediately blushed while Daphne just smiled a little. "Children are a definite future for the Potters. But, I very much doubt it will be here when we start having them.

"Although," she mused turning back to Harry. "I can see Harry coming back here to teach DADA, Charms or Transfiguration, in future. We just might have children to bring back with us, if teaching's in Harry's future."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The sixth year flowed a lot easier than the fifth, OWL, year. They had fewer classes each, but the assignments were longer and required much more detail. The study area, library and potions labs received a lot of work.

On not more than a few occasions they also trooped up to the seventh floor to use the very old texts they knew they could find there; and down to the school library to use the newer ones that had been bought the summer, previously.

The study area within the suites was often occupied by at least one of the group. Now that they were spread across various classes, it was not often when all of them would be there.

And, now that the twins had finally graduated and were running their new business, the group lacked their constant nattering presences, as well.

For their etiquette club, Harry and Daphne were training up Colin and Astoria to take over starting the next year. This year, they'd assist and even run meetings on their own. Then, two years later, they'd train up the next to take it over. Both Potters were happy with their plans for the club to continue to exist - and even flourish - after they'd graduated.

The year flowed smoothly for Harry, Daphne and the others in the group. At least, academically, it did. Susan ended up very effectively 'dumping' Eddie Carmichael in November. When Harry asked her why, she told him it was because he had stopped being a gentleman.

He got the full story from Daphne a couple days later. It seems young Mister Carmichael developed a strong desire to get his hands into Susan's upper robes and play with her, quite substantial, 'girls'. It even got to the point where he nearly forced her when she tagged him with a right cross that broke his jaw. And, if that wouldn't put him into Madam Pomfrey's care, the Hexing he got from the feisty little red head certainly would have done the trick.

However, Susan was soon on the arm of fellow Hufflepuff, Ernie MacMillan. This time, Harry made sure the boy got the 'shovel talk' and advice to take it easy with her because of what Harry told him was 'a very emotionally draining breakup due a betrayal of trust' with the Carmichael boy.

Hermione's relationship with Justin Finch-Fletchley foundered in October, was back on again during the Christmas break, foundered again in early February, and was back on again when he practically abased himself to her on Valentine's Day in the Great Hall and sang her a love song in front of everyone in the key of 'off'. They remained together for the rest of the school year.

"And, you took him back; why?" asked Harry.

"If he was willing to go to the length of completely embarrassing himself in front of the entire school," she replied, "I know his love for me is strong enough for us to weather hardships life may, and probably will, bring."

Harry hugged her and said, "I'm happy for you." He then held her at arms length and said, "But you tell him, from me, if he hurts you again - him, me and my shovel are going to take a walk out into the Forbidden Forest."

She smiled back with her eyes twinkling and said, "I hope you don't mind; but, I've already told him that."

Harry just snorted in amusement and hugged her again. "You're the best Protectee a Lord can ask for, you know that?"

"I do," she replied. "And you're the best little brother a girl could ask for."

As she turned and walked away with a bit of a smirk, he called, "Hey! I'm not _little_! Just ask Daph!"

"_Harry!_" his wife, who had overheard, exclaimed and blushed.

Turning to her, he said, "Well, I'm not; am I?" He hated how his question sounded almost - whining.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

The year passed and they entered their seventh confident in their abilities. This was the NEWT year. When they called the wizarding test to graduate Hogwarts 'Nearly Excruciating' they weren't making an idle claim. Five to seven feet of parchment for various assignments, classes of casting that left them exhausted, physically, mentally and magically were the norm.

But, get through it, they did.

During the Christmas break, Justin and Hermione came to the decision they would _both_ attend muggle education, once Hogwarts was over, because neither wanted to risk being apart for that long. Hermione was putting her career on hold to better her education, and the money now flowing into the vaults for Dagworth-Granger House were more than sufficient for her to pursue a dream of gaining a muggle undergraduate degree, minimum.

And, Justin was also from a well-to-do family and had the same sort of finances behind him to do the same thing. The Finch-Fletchleys came from what is considered 'old' money, similar to the Noble and Ancient Houses.

Tracey and Blaise had a right royal bust up, but both also realised it was from the stress of study rather than anything else. So, both got back together promising each other to vent their anger on duelling dummies in the Come and Go Room before unleashing their tongues at one another. They often 'fought' side-by-side with their duelling.

Harry walked up to Blaise in the Great Hall from behind one day, carrying 'his' shovel, and tapped the boy on the shoulder. When Blaise turned around he saw Harry standing there brandishing the garden implement.

"_Shovel_, Mister Zabini," mock-growled Harry. "_Shovel!_"

"Merlin, Harry! I..." said the boy, before he was interrupted by a clearly angry Tracey.

Harry didn't know she was already in the Hall.

"_Harry James Potter!_" she screeched, standing up from where she was sitting. "You will _not_ harm..."

Harry handed the shovel to Blaise by literally tossing it to the boy, and bolted from the Hall. Thankfully, no curses or hexes flew, due to the many young students already in the Hall, and he made it out without harm. Only Blaise's, and a few other students', laughter chased him out.

Susan and Ernie's relationship bloomed, too. And, in their seventh year, Eddie surpassed Harry's Valentine's Day efforts by giving her the whole day as one long, romantic endeavour before, in the evening, dropping to one knee and proposing to her. She bawled her eyes out and Ernie looked gutted before she finally threw herself into his arms, sending them both sprawling to the floor - and accepted.

MacMillan was a Noble and Ancient House, and Ernie was the oldest son of the second son of Lord Iain MacMillan; ex-Head of the School Board of Governors. Madam Bones and Lord MacMillan soon had a betrothal contract drawn up and signed where the first son would carry the name MacMillan, and the second would carry the name Bones; _unless_ the son of the oldest son had a son first. In which case, the oldest son of Ernie and Susan would carry the name Bones for Line Continuation purposes. Susan would also retain the name 'Bones'.

Aunt Amelia was over the moon. Alastor Moody found himself resoundingly kissed when he walked into her office the day of the signing to 'just see how his favourite student was doing'; and immediately Stunned her and scanned her for potions and other mind-altering substances. When Master Auror Shacklebolt walked in and founded her bounded to a chair and unconscious, he _Renervated_ her and found out what had happened and ended up having a giggling fit that morphed into roaring laughter. However, Aunt Amelia's good mood could not be shaken, even after being so surprisingly Stunned and bound.

Moody stomped off muttering about young chits getting all 'girly' with him and barked at a poor unsuspecting cadet auror, who was passing by, how 'it just wasn't right'.

Neville had already asked Harry to be his Best Man, who immediately accepted. And, over the course of the next few months, whittled down his choices to Blaise and Ernie to be his other two groomsmen. He was happy to just have Harry stand with him, but he - just like Harry a couple years earlier - was outvoted by the bride. He would have three stand with him to match the Maid of Honour and two bride's maids Hannah would have - or else! And they both knew Hannah had a temper when she was properly riled.

Susan and Ernie were getting married in June, and Neville and Hannah in August. Susan would be taking up the Headship of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Bones immediately after graduation, as she would have already attained her majority; while Neville and Hannah were holding off on their nuptials until Neville attained _his_ majority and took up his Head and Lordship for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Longbottom.

As they headed into the final weeks before their NEWT exams, Harry began setting aside a bit of time to plan Neville's stag party.

He was working in his office when he was interrupted by a knock on his open door. Looking up, he saw Hannah walk in as Daphne smirked and walked away.

"Lady Hannah," he began, before she cut him off.

"Don't start, Harry," she snapped. Then her voice dropped to an ominous pitch. "I know it is your - responsibility - to organise a buck's party for Neville." Before he could say anything she just glared at him and continued. "_ON_ the day of our wedding everything is to be perfect. You will ensure Neville awaits me before the Minister as I enter the wedding marquee. He is to be sober. He is to be alert. He is to be standing proudly as I approach.

"He will _not_ be marked, missing hair, anything but his natural colour, or suffering from any other - affliction - that will make me angry. If I am angry - or, if I have reason to _be_ angry - the Potter line ends with you. Have I made myself perfectly clear to you, Lord Potter?"

Harry gulped and nodded.

"Thank you, Harry," she said before leaving again.

'Damn!' thought Harry. 'Now, what am I going to do?' With a sigh he started crossing ideas off his list. 'I was really looking forward to that one, too. _And_, that one. Leaving him potioned up with Stamina and Pepper-Up Potions naked in the middle of a Veela enclave in France was such a _good_ idea, too.'

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

During the couple of weeks leading up to the exams Harry and the others took a stressed out Hermione to Madam Pomfrey, who immediately forced the girl into bed with a Dreamless Sleep Potion. The next day, a much better Hermione came down for breakfast.

That's when Harry and Daphne ordered the girl to move into one of the bedrooms in the owners' apartments. During that time, they found out Maisey was a fair masseuse. And the Slytherin elf then took to giving them all back and neck massages before they each headed for bed.

Harry had told Daphne he found the best form of relaxation was a good and proper shag. To which she replied, "If it wasn't for the fact I believe the same I'd accuse you of just wanting to get into my knickers, Lord Potter."

"Oh, _no_," he piously replied. "I _always_ want to get into your knickers. But, each time I do, I know how much better I feel the next day."

As exams were held, the combined owners' apartments ended up with a full house. All bedrooms full.

Harry and Daphne were in their room in Ravenclaw. Tracy and Blaise in her room in Slytherin, Hannah and Susan in the room, next door. Neville and Ernie each had a bedroom where the Slytherin kitchen was.

Hermione and Luna shared the Gryffindor master bed. And Justin slept down in the Hufflepuff master bedroom.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

With exams finally over, the now much extended group of eleven thought of partying but found they were all just so relieved it was over, the party - fizzled. Instead, they all headed for bed and slept in the next day.

A late breakfast for the group was in the Gryffindor kitchen. The dining table had been extended much earlier for sittings of the size. Harry preferred to sit alongside his wife, but - on these sorts of days - had to sit at the end while Daphne sat to his left. Everyone else just sat where they wanted.

Remaining at table after their breakfast dishes were cleared away by the suites' house elves, they talked.

"I'm going to miss you," said a sad Luna.

"Neville and Hannah will still be here, dear Luna," said Harry. "And, I believe others will be coming and going, at times, during the year."

"I know," she sighed. "And, I'm grateful Neville and Hannah will be staying. But, he will be an Adjunct Professor and an apprentice under Madam Sprout. I'm the only student of our group left."

"I'll be staying, too, Luna," said Hannah. I'll be living, here, with Neville. Harry's letting us use these wonderful suites for the year and we'll be sleeping in the Gryffindor master. You'll always be welcome to come and stay, when you feel you want to."

Looking back at the other girl with a grateful smile, Luna softly said, "Thank you."

Harry was going to be helping his wife set up Daphne's business in enchanting muggle-based goods for the wizarding home; while he would also be working towards stripping the laws away that forbade enchanting muggle items.

Hermione and Justin were soon to be off to a specialist facility to tailor their education to allow them access in to Kings College at the University of London. A quite prestigious research-based university that would work well with Hermione's intention to go into spell and other magics research.

Blaise was going to remain in magical Britain to be nearer Tracey, whom he still hadn't made an 'honest woman', and was setting up a magical Britain based business for his mother's potions business. Tracey, of course, was heading to Saint Mungo's to begin the next phase of becoming a healer.

Susan was going to work in the Ministry but wouldn't say what she was doing. They'd all already figured out she was going to work for the Unspeakables. Ernie would be working with Harry and Daphne.

Though she still had a year of Hogwarts to go, Luna was going to research her magical creatures and write better books on them. She'd already written to, and been invited by, Newt Scamander to work on her research.

Colin was looking forward to starting up his own independent photography company; and Astoria was looking towards working with him in that business. Harry had offered to spot the boy - the young man, now - the start-up capital, but had been beaten to the offer by Cygnus.

As far as Harry was concerned, the boy would soon be 'family'. So, he'd help in any way he could. One of those ways was to give the boy free rent on one of his vacant shops in Diagon Alley that had an upstairs apartment. That would be his 'wedding present' to the newlywed couple.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/


	87. A REAL Epilogue

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter universe belongs to JK Rowling, Scholastic, Bloomsbury, Warner Bros and some other high falutin' companies. Me, I'm just a PR professional. I don't profess to own - and would never _dream_ of making any money off - JKR's wonderful world. However, its her sandbox and she's left the gate unlatched so we can go in and play a bit. Which, I've done.

* * *

**Chapter Eighty Seven - **** A REAL ****Epilogue**

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-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Susan and Ernie's wedding was as beautiful as she wanted. Even the weather was on her side. Ernie was real 'antsy' until he took one look at her. Then he was as still as a statue.

His Best Man, Wayne Hopkins, had to physically reach out and turn him as Susan came up and stood alongside him. That made the friends snicker. He even had to be prompted by the jab of a finger to the small of his back, by Wayne, to answer the obligatory questions. Thankfully, it didn't upset Susan in the slightest.

Six weeks later and it was Neville and Hannah's turn. This time Harry, as Best Man, didn't need to prompt the sandy haired young man as he - the recently inducted Lord Longbottom - appeared almost eager to get on with it.

Late the next morning, Harry received a rather irate floo call from Hannah. Someone - and Harry blamed his godfather - had written on young Lord Longbottom's stomach the words 'The Wand of Destiny' with an arrow pointing down to his 'wedding tackle'. And no amount of magic could remove it.

Harry had to tell her he thought it was Mercurochrome, a muggle anti-bacterial solution that sinks into the skin staining it, and that it would fade away over a couple of days. Then he blocked access to Hannah through the Potter Manor floo for the next week - just in case.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

Harry and Daphne were finally able to get the legislation banning the sale of muggle enchanted devices overturned, and had their shop up and running within Diagon Alley within a week. Ernie was their first employee and loved the work.

They were very careful with what they were selling, so items like refrigerators, televisions, muggle radios, and similar were allowed. These devices all operated as if they were connected to electricity. No item was sold that would not pass casual inspection within a muggle household.

After working to get the business operational for five years, Harry studied for his Mastery in DADA while Daphne did the same for Ancient Runes. Then Harry moved on to a Mastery in Charms.

Eventually, he took over the DADA Professorship at Hogwarts, but demanded and got permission to link the floo in his office to his office in Potter Manor. It was a secure connection.

_Saturday, 14th June 2008 - Potter Manor_

The young man stepped out of the fireplace into the parlour to be greeted by a green-eyed, blonde haired toddler running from the room, screaming while a small boy of about six or seven chased after her.

"_Prim!_" the boy called to the toddler, "Prim! _Stop!_"

As the young man grinned after the two kids he turned back to be prepared to catch the clearly very pregnant blonde haired lady stepping through with her arms full of a toddler of her own.

Banishing the veil she had covering the child's face the young man made sure the lady and himself were cleared of soot.

"And just what are you grinning about, Neville Francis?" asked the blonde haired lady.

"Young Sirius chasing his baby sister out of here, my love," he chuckled as he took the toddler from his wife's arms.

"No!" whined the toddler. "_Down_, daddy; _down_!"

"Alright, Franklin," said Neville, lowering the child to the floor. With the child standing on it's own two feet Neville pointed to a doorway and said, "Sirius and Primrose went that way."

"Thank you, daddy," said the child, Harfang, before it ran out through the same door.

Turning back to his wife, Neville smiled and asked, "You know where they'll be, don't you?"

"Kitchen," said Hannah. "Harry'll be annoying his house elves by cooking."

Neville grinned back and escorted his wife through to the kitchen.

Entering, they saw that they were nearly the last to arrive. Harry was working at the oven talking with Colin, while Daphne was sitting at the large dining table talking to Susan, Tracey, Tonks and Astoria.

"Hi folks," said Neville as Hannah went over to the other ladies.

"Nev!" said Harry, turning to look. "Butterbeers and ales are in the fridge. Help yourself. Hi Hannah!"

"Harry," greeted Hannah as she sat with the others.

As Neville walked over to see what delights Harry was whipping up and opening the fridge to pull out an ale, he asked Harry, "Where's Remus and Blaise?"

"Out the back with Sirius senior," said Harry. "They're trying to teach Teddy how to fly a broom."

"Well, if Sirius is here, where's his wife, Connie?" asked Neville.

"She'll be along in a little while," replied Colin, as Harry was checking the contents of the oven.

"She should have just finished her shift at Saint Mungo's and will have gone to pick James junior up from her mother's," replied Harry over his shoulder.

Neville heard a squeal at the table and turned to look. Hannah was excitedly hugging a blushing Daphne.

"Hi Daph," he said. "What's going on?"

Tracey answered with a gleeful smirk, "That messy-haired best friend of yours got Daphne pregnant again. Twins!"

A gobsmacked Neville spun back to Harry, who had turned around with a pleased grin on his face, and exclaimed, "Harry, mate! Congratulations!" And shook his hand.

A loud ding was heard signalling the front door had opened as someone came in.

Harry looked up for a moment and said, "That'll be Hermione and Justin."

"Where is everyone?" they heard Hermione call.

"Auntie 'Miny - Uncle Jus'! They're in the kitchen!" called the voice of Sirius junior, Harry and Daphne's oldest.

A few moments later, a hesitant Hermione entered with Justin right behind. The first thing the girls noticed was the baby bulge Hermione was sporting.

With the squeal of glee from all the witches Hermione was dragged over to the table. "How long?" "Do you know what sex it is yet?" "When's it due?"

Harry took one long look and turned to Neville, "Neville! Get. My. _Shovel_!"

"Now - Harry," said Justin backing up a little.

Hermione's head snapped around to glare at Harry from where she was conversing with Astoria. "_Harry James Potter!_ You leave my husband _alone_! We're married! I'm sure you know what was going to happen sooner or later."

Harry impudently grinned back. "So," he said. "I see you've taken serious what was poked at you in fun."

"_Harry!_" exclaimed Daphne. "You stop that, this instant; or, it's the couch for you!"

Both Neville and Colin were chuckling away.

Harry turned to Justin and grinned. "Congrats, Jus'. Ale and butterbeers are in the fridge. Help yourself."

"Errr - thanks," said Justin, going to the fridge. "Are we the last to arrive?"

"Yep," replied Harry. "Blaise, Sirius and Remus are out back teaching James junior how to fly a broom. The other 'carpet commandoes' are running around here somewhere. And Ernie's running the shop. How goes the research?"

"Good," he replied, pleased to have been asked. "I think we're really on to something. I don't think we're ready to make an announcement of it any time soon, though. But - it's promising."

"Good to hear," said Harry. "A permanent cure for lycanthropy will go a long way to helping Neville, Sirius, Cygnus, Susan, Hermione and I to stop the bigotry directed towards those who suffer from that accursed affliction."

"You still don't have the votes?" asked Tracey, from where she was listening.

"No, but we're close," replied Neville.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

_Saturday, 16th June 2018 - 'New' Dagworth-Granger Manor_

The Potters arrived at New Dagworth-Granger Manor 'muggle style'. That is, they arrived by car.

Walking to the front door, Harry was about to knock when Dobby opened the door for them.

"Dobs!" exclaimed Harry, "Good to see you!"

"And you, sir!" grinned the little elf. "Master and Mistress are in the parlour with their other guests."

"Unca Hawwy!" said a little bushy-haired missile who flew into Harry's legs - the younger version of a grapple-hug - as he tried to step inside.

"Oof!" he exclaimed, looking down to pick the little four year old up. "Hello Gwen," he softly said to her, Hermione and Justin's youngest, giving her a cuddle.

"Mummy's in da parlour with Auntie Stori, Auntie Twacey, Auntie Connie, Auntie Tonks, Auntie Loona, Auntie Susan, Auntie Hannah..."

As the little girl rattled off the names, Harry carried her into the parlour. He was followed by Daphne and his brood of five.

"Daddy's outside with Unca Padfoo, Unca Moony, Unca Colnin, Unca Nev, Unca Blaise, Unca..." continued the little girl.

"Gwen!" said Hermione, interrupting her youngest. "Uncle Harry knows their names. Now let him go, so he can say hello to his friends."

Harry put the girl down as she said, "Okay, Mummy." Then she turned to look up at Harry and, with the almost exact expression Hermione got when she was trying to be stern, said, "You go play with your fwiends, Unca Hawwy. The ladies are talking in here."

With a snort, he replied, "Yes, my Lady. This humble servant thanks you for your permission to depart your presence." And bowed low.

Turning, he kissed Daphne on her cheek, and cheekily asked, "May I, my Lady?"

Daphne rolled her eyes and said, "Get. And take this lot with you. No doubt they're out there on their brooms."

Harry grinned to her and turned to his kids. "Okay, team Potter; let's go show them how to fly, shall we?" He looked at the smiling faces of Sirius 'SJ' junior, Primrose, the twins - Charlus and Hadrian, and the youngest, Monica - which kept his promise to his mother-in-law.

The six of them headed out the back as Harry pulled the half-dozen shrunken Lightning Bolt brooms out of his pocket.

"Professor Potter!" exclaimed Wendell; Justin and Hermione's third.

"Now, Wendell," said Harry. "We're not in school. You already know you can call me Harry during the summer."

"Yes, Sir," said the boy. "But, Mum disagrees with you."

"And you don't want to upset your Mum," said Harry.

The boy grinned back and said, "No, sir."

"Smart lad," said Harry.

"Hey, pup!" called Sirius. "The kids are just about to form teams for lightning Quidditch. Get your litter up in the air!"

Not needing any further encouragement, the five kids took to the air on their brooms.

Walking over to see his godfather, Harry smiled and said, "It's good to see you, you old dog."

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

_Sunday, 1st September, many, many decades later - Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

Sitting in his hoverchair atop the Astronomy tower, Headmaster Harry Potter looked out across the grounds of Hogwarts and watched as the sun set over the mountains on the other side of Black Lake.

He heard a slight cough from behind and a voice he knew so well, "Headmaster? The train will be arriving soon."

The Hogwarts Express, now a sleek crimson coloured 'maglev' - magical levitation - train shot along so fast that the train ride now only took a little over three hours to make it's journey from New Kings Cross Station to Hogsmeade.

"Thank you, Gwen," said Harry.

Harry turned his chair to look into the lined face of his Deputy, Professor Gwendolyn Zabini nee Finch-Fletchley. 'How _much_ she looks like her late mother, Hermione,' he thought with a mental sigh.

"I shall be down shortly," he said. "I wish to see the train arrive."

'Yes, Headmaster," replied Gwen, looking back.

Though a nasty curse to the back had robbed him of the use of his legs during his Unspeakable days, Harry never let it bother him, too much. He sighed once, grumbled a bit, and got to work on developing a 'wheelchair' that could hover, was powered off the users inherent magic, and could be moved by little more than intent alone. It was the most current advanced version of that, now developed by Potter Enchantments' R & D section, than he sat upon this night.

Gwen looked over and saw, no matter the Headmaster's advanced age, he still sat with his back straight and proud; his hair, still messy, but now completely white; clean-shaven - because, Daphne preferred him that way; and, wearing frameless and armless spectacles for his far-sightedness, affixed to his face only by the bridge of his nose and the use of microscopic runes.

"Have I told you, lately, how much you mean to me?" he asked her.

With a fond smile, the old witch replied, "All the time, Headmaster. All the time."

"Good," he said. "One can never be told enough how much their service is appreciated."

Gwen made a slight bow, before she turned and descended the stairs back into the castle. At the bottom she turned back, smiled fondly at where she knew the Headmaster's chair to be, and said to herself, "You're such a good man, Unca Hawwy."

As she had descended the stairs, Harry silently turned his chair back to the view over the edge of the lake to the station and thought about his life. His children all grown, children of their own, and their children's children. He thought of his late wife Daphne, dead these past few years - quite a few, now - and yearned to once more feel her lips upon his. Their love for one another never diminished. He still held it in his heart even now.

Of his friends, only Neville still survived. He'd retired as Chief Warlock a few years ago and was happy working in his little greenhouse in the solarium one of his grandsons had built onto the back of Longbottom Hall for him. Hannah had passed, even before Daphne.

He'd passed on all his Lordships a long time ago; when he wanted to devote his time fully to being a Headmaster. Sirius James 'SJ' was now Lord Potter; Primrose Isabel 'Pip' married Neville's oldest, Franklin - yet again, the close alliance between Potter and Longbottom shone through - and was now Lady Longbottom; the twins, Charlus Harfang and Hadrian Cygnus, were Lord Gryffindor and Lord Slytherin respectively; and Monica - his precious baby - married Daniel Finch-Fletchley, Hermione and Justin's second child.

Surprising Colin and Astoria both, he passed on the title of Lord Greengrass to their eldest son, Harrison, named after him. Harry the younger was so overcome by the gesture he couldn't even bring himself to thank his uncle for almost a week. Harry the senior thought it was one of his greatest pranks. It was also his last. As Colin and 'Tori' lived at Greengrass Estate at the time, he thought it was most wise of him to hand it to the man. Once he'd brushed the 'cobwebs' off the title, he'd quickly made the name Greengrass again one of power within the Wizengamot.

He sat there thinking about them all. What they, especially his school friends, had gone through. And thought back all those many years about the time he'd spent in this very castle as a student with them.

Remus had passed first. Though Justin and Hermione's people finally managed to find a cure for lycanthropy, the long years of monthly transformations had taken a toll on his body. He died quite young for a magical, about fifteen years later. Of course, then went Wendell and Monica; non-mags. Their passing had a profound impact on them all. Then Gran. Both Neville and Harry were gutted, but their wives pulled them both through it.

Sirius held on for quite a while. The love of his wife, children and friends helped him through the loss of his close childhood friend. But, when the time came, he went willingly onto his next great adventure surrounded by all those who loved him and could make it to visit with him in his last remaining hours. He even seemed to be looking forward to it. "The Marauders will be reunited," he smiled. Cygnus, Isabel and Aunt Amelia all passed within a few years of each other.

Then they had quite a few years before they lost other loved ones. But, then they all started to pass. Barely a month seemed to go by before other friends and acquaintances 'moved on'. Eventually, only he and Neville remained.

He sighed in remembrance. He missed them all.

Snapping out of his maudlin thoughts, he looked back to Hogsmeade. With the mountains in the way, twilight was quite short. The stars were all out and twinkling, so early.

He was looking at the heavens and trying to remember what the stars were all called again. He'd lost his perfect memory quite some time ago. Now he knew what it was like to forget.

He was tired. He closed his eyes to rest for a moment while he awaited the train. One memory he never forgot - would _never_ forget - was the scent of his wife. He could even smell it now.

"Had enough yet?" he heard, just as he felt his chair gently settle to the ground. It shouldn't have done that. It was powered off his magic and remained hovering as long as he sat upon it, after all. And was similar to the magic used in the maglev train. He idly thought that might have been a problem.

He opened his eyes to see a vision. His wife was leaning with her bum against the rail of the tower, smiling. Her legs crossed at the ankles and her arms folded across her chest. She looked as she did when she was about twenty one.

"Daph?" he asked, a little confused.

"I asked if you'd had enough yet?" she asked, uncrossing her legs and dropping her arms to her side as she stood up straight.

"It's time?" he asked.

"Yes, sweetheart," she replied, gliding over to stand next to him.

"I wanted to see the train arrive," he sighed.

She smiled and pointed. "Look," she said.

He looked to Hogsmeade just as he saw the Express arrive in all its glory. "Ah!" he said. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"Yes," she wistfully replied. "Our greatest invention."

They both watched the train for a few moments, just as students started to alight from it's carriages.

"Come on," she said. "Everyone's waiting."

"Yes. Of course," he said, and stood up, taking a half step forward. Nothing hurt, now. No aches or pains.

He turned about and saw his body sitting in the chair; his eyes were closed and he had that silly half-crooked smile on his lips.

"Minister Black is going to be _most_ put out I chose today to up and die on her," said Harry. "She was supposed to be heading for that ICW conference for Heads of Government in Nice in three days."

He turned his head and took one more look at the students disembarking.

"She'll survive," said Daphne with a light chuckle.

Turning to his wife, he kissed her and asked, "Where to?"

"Home," she said, holding her hand out to take his. "I'm here to guide you home."

"Excellent," he said.

Hold his wife's hand, he felt himself lift and begin to ascend.

"I've missed you," he quietly said.

"And I, you, my darling," she replied.

"Do you still love me?" he cheekily asked.

"Then, now and for eternity," she replied with a smile.

As he was surrounded by a bright light he heard his godfather, in his animagus form, happily barking his head off in welcome.

_‗_  
-==(oIo)==-  
\""/

_Finite Incantatem!_


End file.
